So Much More than Ordinary
by thelastOpenDoor
Summary: Takes places where Hinton left off. A new girl comes to town with her own story to tell, and becomes Ponyboy's best friend. But can the forgetful greaser save her life? Now complete with alternate ending.
1. Chapter 1

Okay.. Let's see if I can't get this one finished, shall we?

I was still working on my assignment when the new girl came.

I have to admit that I was pretty nervous when she walked through the door of the science room in her white sweater and faded denim skirt and sat down right next to me. There were no other free seats. I kept thinking I would mess something up and make her think I was weird or something. After all, I still hadn't quite gotten over what happened with Johnny and Windrixville and the rumble and all. Writing out the story helped a lot, but I was still forgetting everything and somehow even the chocolate cake tasted like baloney every morning.

I could tell just by looking at her she wasn't quite a Soc, and she was definately not a greaser. Sort of middle class, you know. Her hair was short, just above her shoulders, and really light brown, clipped back behind her ears with little blue clips. She turned to face me and I could see her eyes were bright green with flecks of gold in them. They were real pretty. I felt my stomach flip.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey."

The bell rang then, and Mr. Smith came in from his side office and started flipping through the papers on his desk. "Alright, class," he said, "Turn to page 57 in your textbooks, please."

The room filled with rustling pages as everyone went on with his instructions. Everyone except me. I didn't realize until he said anything that I'd forgotten my textbook. Here I go again, I thought, always messing stuff up.

The new girl noticed my mistake right away. It was kind of weird, though. She didn't even say anything to me, just slid her book over a little toward me so I could see, too. Huh. Well, at least she's nice.

The lesson was all about the weather. Something about the temperature and humidity effecting the rain or whatever. I didn't care. I can tell the weather just fine: if it's grey, it'll rain, if it's not, it won't. Simple as that.

Eventually he stopped talking and started handing out worksheets as homework. We had 15 minutes till the end of class. I stared at my sheet blankly. There was a circle in the middle, all the way filled in except for a white bar in its center. There was a line coming out of its right side with two smaller lines coming off of that, one a little longer than the other. There were numbers all around it, and at the top it said _Lable each: Temperature, dewpoint, humidity, wind speed and directing, cloud cover._

Great. I don't know how to do any of this.

The new girl reached over to her stack of books and folders for a pencil and started working right away. I noticed she was reading _The Screwtape Letters._ I'd heard of C. S. Lewis before. I wondered if she liked reading that sort of thing. Maybe she just liked reading. Maybe she even liked sunsets, too.

Sighing, I pulled a pen from my pocket and wrote my name on the worksheet. I could do that much, at least. Hopefully Darry would know some of this.

Then I heard her whisper a soft little, "Oh," and she was suddenly scooting her chair closer to mine. "Do you need help?" she asked.

I felt my face get hot. "Uh," I said. Stupid. I cleared my throat. "Yeah. I don't get it."

She smiled encouragingly. "Here." She reached over and pulled my worksheet between us both. "The circle in the middle means cloud cover. So the more black there is in the circle --"

"The more clouds there are." I said.

"Right. Now, since it's almost all black, we call this_ 90 coverage_." She wrote it between the numbers in neat cursive. "Get it?"

"Yeah." I pointed to the line on the right side. "What's this?"

"That's --"

"Are you so new here that you don't know nothing?" The Soc across from us asked. He had the same madras shirt and short hair cut that the rest of them had. Nothing interesting about him. "We don't help stupid greasers here." he said 'greaser' like it was a swear word.

I went even hotter. I looked down, but was still watching her out of the corner of my eye, waiting for her to shrink away and go back to her work.

But she didn't. She just stared at the Soc coolly and said, "_You_ may not, but _I_ do." Then she turned back to me and the worksheet and continued helping me like nothing happened. "That's the wind direction. It's on the right side, which means it's blowing," she pointed to the left, "That way. East. And the smaller lines mean wind speed. The bigger one is ten knots, the smaller is five. So the wind is blowing East at 15 knots." She wrote it down.

We went on like that through the whole thing. She made it real easy to understand, and we were done with 7 minutes left in class.

"Thanks a lot," I said.

She smiled. "No problem."

We were quiet for a bit, then she said, "I never did get your name."

"I'm Ponyboy. Ponyboy Curtis. And don't laugh, my dad named me."

She looked confused. "Why would I laugh?"

"A lot of people do." I shrugged. "Ponyboy's not a very common name."

"I think it's a great name. I'm tired of the usual names. Every new face is either a Tom, Dick or Harry lately."

I laughed a little. "Yeah, no kidding."

"I'm Heather, by the way." She said. "Heather Reed."

_Heather._ It fit her nicely. "Pleased to meet you." I stuck out my hand.

She shook it. "Pleased to meet you, too."

The bell rang again, and everyone cleared out. Heather gathered her books quietly as I headed for the door. I had English next, and I wanted to show my teacher how far I'd gotten on my assignment --

"Ponyboy!"

I turned to see Heather running up to me with my books and pen under one arm. "You forgot your stuff." she said.

"Oh." I must have looked like a lobster, my face was so hot. I carefully took them from her, looking down at my feet. "Thanks."

She blushed, too. "No problem." Then she ran down the hallway and dissapeared in all the faces.

A/N: Please read and reveiw! I have high hopes for this one...


	2. Chapter 2

-1**Oh, by the way, none of this story belongs to me… just Heather. Everything else is S. E. Hinton's. So don't sue me. And also, I currently don't own a copy of this book, so I don't remember Ponyboy's English teacher's name... so, yeah, I'm playing this by ear...**

I felt real stupid when I finally made it to class. I was late; I forgot the way to the English room and had been wandering around for what must have been half the period. There goes my chance to show my teacher how far I'd gotten...

But at any rate, I eventually stumbled into class and everyone was staring at me with their smirking faces, whispering to each other.

Except one. Heather was in the very back, looking at me kind of sadly. Like she knew exactly why I was so late.

"Ponyboy?" Mr. Jones asked, "Is there any reason why you're tardy?"

I went red again. "N-no sir." I stuttered, then made my way to my desk.

Mr. Jones regarded me uncertainly, then shrugged and went on with our lesson. Just a bunch of stuff about direct objects and all the grammar. My eyes started to droop. I hadn't realized how tired I was. Soon Mr. Jones' voice was just a faint jumble of words, and my vision came in and out of focus...

* * *

_"Let's give the greaser a bath."_

_My head was shoved under and my scream lost to the water. I thrashed against their grip, but they only dragged me farther down. Bubbles flew up from my mouth and around my ears with a sound like distant thunder. I threw my eyes open, trying to see a way out, but they stung and I had to close them again. _

_My lugs burned, begging for just one breath... someone was screaming... people were running but I was too weak to follow... then everything went black... except for the blood. There was so much blood... pooling beneath me... flowing out of me... I was drenched in it..._

_I can't breathe..._

_I can't breathe..._

_I CAN'T BREATHE!!_

* * *

I jumped awake, gasping in air as fast as I could. My clothes stuck to me with cold sweat, and I was shivering like mad.

"Ponyboy?!"

I jerked my head around and found Heather standing beside me. Mr. Jones was coming toward us, his eyes flashing with worry. There was no one else in the room. I tried to say something, but I was breathing too hard to form words, and my mouth just opened and closed uselessly.

"Ponyboy, calm down." Heather put her books down on the desk beside me and gently put her hand on my forehead. "It's just a dream. You're fine."

I blinked rapidly and rubbed my eyes. _Just a dream... just a dream..._

"What happened?" Mr. Jones asked Heather hastily.

"Fell asleep in class. Guess he had a nightmare."

"Ponyboy, are you alright?" he asked.

What a stupid question.

It took me a few moments to answer him, I was breathing so hard. "Y..Yeah, I'm okay. Ju-Just--"

"Has this been happening often?" he inturrupted.

"Well..." I paused to breathe again, "Sort of, but--"

"When did they start?"

"Look, sir, I'm fine." I said, a little annoyed, and stood up. Why wouldn't he listen? "I just didn't sleep well last night but I'm okay. I promise." I stood up and grabbed my things, then paused. "Where is everyone, anyway?"

"The bell rang a few minutes ago." Heather explained. "You were asleep. I was trying to wake you up, but... you just... I don't know... It looked like I was... hurting you."

I turned to face her. I can't really explain the look in her eyes. I could see so many things in them at once, but the two that stood out the most were concern and... understanding? How could she know..? I was stunned for a second, but quickly came back to my senses.

"I'm fine." I repeated as I picked up my books. "I'll go home and take some asprin or something."

Mr. Jones nodded. "Make sure you tell your brothers about this, Ponyboy. Maybe you should see a doctor."

I didn't say anything, just left the room with my arms around my books. I was still shaking.

"I'm home!" I mumbled half heartedly as I stumbled through the door, but I tripped over the door jam and my books went flying. I'd forgotten to go back to my locker and get the rest of my homework. I sighed angrily and got down on my knees to pick everything back up.

"Whatcha doin' down there, Pony?"

I looked up to see Soda, his face smeared with chocolate icing, putting a plate and fork in the sink. He smiled playfully at me.

"Dropped my stuff." I said bluntly. "What are you doing home?"

"Boss gave me the day off since I worked double last week." He came over to help me.

"How was school?"

I thought about Heather and her bright eyes, how she seemed just to appear everywhere, how she was so eager to help. I thought about my dream, the memory of the night at the park with Johnny...

"Fine." I grunted. "Just fine."

"Good, good." He handed me the last of my papers, standing up. "Where's your backpack?"

"Forgot it." I reached up to grab the paper he held out, expecting to see him rolling his eyes and chiding me again like he usually does when I forgot things.

But he didn't. His eyes went all wide and he paled just a little. "Ponyboy..." he whispered.

I was confused. "What?"

He got down on his knees in front of me and took my face in his hands, looking me over. "Damn, boy, you look terrible."

"I'm fine." I grumbled.

"No you ain't." He stood me up. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Don't you give me that." He was real serious all the sudden, his eyes scanning mine.

"I said nothing happened and nothing happened!" I pulled away from him and went to the kitchen, plopping my books down on the table. I reached into the cabniet above the sink and grabbed the asprin. I shook four or five into my palm and sent them down the hatch.

"Dammit, Ponyboy!" Soda yelled behind me. "What the hell's going on!?"

"Nothing!" I shouted, then ran up to my room. I needed to be alone.

**more later... please reveiw!!**


	3. Chapter 3

-1**A big thank you to the faithful few who have replied! You are wonderful!**

"Hey."

I looked up to see Heather standing in front of me. She looked a lot more tired than she did yesterday, with dark shadows like bruises under her green-gold eyes. She had a little brown sack clutched at her side. It was lunch, the day after the dream.

"D'you mind if I sit here?" She asked a little timidly.

"No, go right ahead." I motioned to the empty chair across from me. There was no one else near by. (Who wants to sit next to a greaser who's friend killed a Soc?)

She smiled, only slightly, and sat down. I went back to my turkey (or was it baloney?) sandwich that I had barely touched. Out of the corner of my eye I watched her pull out a peanut butter and jelly roll and start nibbling. We sat in silence for a while. I guess our past experiences with each other offered few comfortable conversations.

Eventually she, being the adventurous one, asked, "So, um, you have brothers?"

I remembered last night when Darry came home, banging on my door like the devil was after him. _"Ponyboy! You let me in right now! Soda's rippin' his hair out over here, he's so worried!"_

"_I don't care! Leave me alone!"_

"Yeah." I said. "Sodapop and Darry."

She nodded. "Older?"

"Yup. You?"

She smiled sadly. "I used to have a little brother."

That caught me off guard. Used to…? But I didn't press the subject. I figured it was a bad memory.

I asked instead, "Favorite subject?"

"English."

"Same here."

We went on like that all through lunch, just small talk questions. I actually learned a lot about her. Her favorite color was blue, favorite food was apple pie, and she couldn't decide what her favorite book was because she had so many. She even loved sunsets.

Over the next week or so Heather and I became real good friends. She helped me every day in science, and in English. I kept telling her that she didn't have to, that she should be doing her own work, but she would just shake her head and say "I've got all the time in the world at home. I don't mind, really." She was practically immune to anything the Socs said to us, too. Whenever I forgot something or messed something up in my work, she would just smile and help me however she could

Then there was one day when Heather offered to tutor me. "I can come over tonight, if you want, and we can work on our homework from other classes."

I looked at my hands.

"What is it?" She asked.

"It's just…" I paused. "I don't have the nicest house. It's pretty run down. And most of the gang hangs out there, so it gets real rowdy."

"Do they bother you when you're doing homework?"

"Nah -- Darry won't let them."

"Then there's nothing to worry about." She smiled encouragingly.

I sighed. "You sure? Won't your old man get worried?"

She shook her head and her smile stayed, but her eyes were suddenly very sad. "Sure I'm sure. Dad won't mind, since it's a school thing."

I looked at her warily. "Alright, fine." I said, defeated.

She brightened a little. "You have yet to win an argument with me."

"I know. You always get your way. It's not fair."

So I met Heather by the water fountain after school and we headed to my house together. I told her not to expect much from the guys. She laughed. "I'll take them as they are."

We didn't say much on the way, but soon enough we came to my house. "Here we are," I said, opening the gate for her. She stayed quiet, scanning over the house with her green-gold eyes.

"I'm home!" I shouted as we entered. Heather and I put our backpacks down on the kitchen table. "You hungry?" I asked. She shook her head. I shrugged.

"Ponyboy!"

We turned to see Two-Bit getting up from his seat on the couch. "Don't be so impolite, kid." he said, "Introduce me to your friend here."

"Oh, right." I stood between them. "Two-Bit, this is Heather Reed. Heather, this is Two-Bit Mathews."

"How ya doin'?" Two-Bit stuck out his hand.

Heather turned a little pink, but she shook his hand. "Fine. It's nice to meet you."

He turned to me. "Does Darry know she's here?"

"He'll find out soon enough, won't he?" I retorted, "He won't mind. She's helping me with my homework."

A smile cracked across his face. "Cool. Did you want to go straight to work, or did you want to wait?"

I looked at Heather. "Well?"

She shrugged. "Whatever you want."

Turning back to Two-Bit, I asked, "What did you have in mind?"

He walked over to the door and picked up his sneakers. "I was gonna get me a coke down at the DX. You have nothing good to drink in your fridge."

I laughed, and Heather and I followed him out the door to his pickup.

Soon enough we were pulling up to the DX. Two-Bit parked and we followed him inside. A flock of giggling girls filled the garage.

"Why are there so many girls here?" Heather asked.

"Sodapop." I said bluntly.

Realization flashed across her face, but she stayed quiet.

"Hey, Soda!" Two-Bit shouted over the sea of girls, "Where's the coke?"

Soda's voice came back to us from beneath the hood of a Volks Wagon. "Next to the register in the shop."

"A'ight!" He turned to us. "Do either of you want one?"

"Sure," I said. Heather shook her head. Then Two-Bit melted away in the crowd.

Soda grunted and stood up, rubbing the oil off his hands with a rag in his back pocket. "That should do it," he murmured, then shoot the hood. He came over to Heather and I. "How you doin' Pony?" He ruffled my hair.

I punched him playfully. "Cut it out, Soda, you're embarrassing me!"

He laughed, turning his gaze to Heather. "And who's this?"

"Oh, this is --"

"Heather Reed?!"

We all turned to see a thing blonde in skimpy clothes looking at my friend incredulously.

Heather looked down at her canvas shoes. "Hi Amy."

"Well, well!" The blonde, Amy, exclaimed. "I'm shocked to see your nose out of your books for once! Did you get yourself another A to feel better about your whore of a mother?"

I was too stunned to say anything.

Heather's shoulders drooped. "Take it back," She whispered.

"Why should I? You know it's true. Too bad all the men she slept with couldn't keep the bitch from shoving a gun barrel down her throat."

"Whoa." Two-Bit was back, wide-eyed. "Harsh."

"How's your father doing, Sweetheart?" Amy mocked.

"Stop." Heather said, hardly audible. A single tear slid down her cheek.

Amy grinned maliciously. "IS he still too drunk to remember your name?"

"That's enough," I finally came to my senses and stepped between the two of them. "Don't talk to my friend like that."

She faked surprise, placing a hand on her mostly-revealed chest. "I'm just saying it like it is! Didn't your girlfriend tell you all this, pretty boy?"

"Get out."

Now she really _was_ surprised. So was I when I turned to Soda. His face had changed to one I didn't recognize, all the laughter and playfulness contorted with anger, the joking twinkle in his eyes now blazing with cold fury. It scared me.

Tears welled in Amy's eyes. "B-but, Sodie! I --"

"Just shut up and leave."

She let out a small sob and raced out of the garage. A few of her friends followed.

Soda watched them go, shaking his head. "Chicks can be so bitter." he muttered.

Two-Bit pushed his way through the silent crowd and handed me a coke. My mouth was dry but I didn't want it anymore.

"How much longer 'till the end of you shift, Soda?"

My brother checked the clock on the far wall. "Three minutes ago. C'mon, let's go home."

The two older boys turned to go. I gently took heathers hand and guided her to the car.

Before we got in, she squeezed my hand and I turned to look back. Her eyes were watery, reminding me of and oak tree in the rain. She tried to smile, but her lips trembled. "Thanks. Back there." Her voice broke.

"Hey," I pulled her into my arms. "What are friends for?"

**Yeah, sorry, it's a little long… please continue to review! Those little messages make me feel better about myself!!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, let's see if I can't actually get the plot moving here, shall we?**

**Thanks for reviewing!! :)**

Heather didn't say much for the rest of the night, just enough to help me with my math and history and to say goodbye around nine. Darry agreed to let her stay for dinner, after she convinced him her dad wouldn't mind her coming home late.

I doubted that. Even more so when she showed up at school the next day, looking more worn out than before, a few bruises visible from under the sleeves of her white sweater. But she acted the same as ever, so I tried to do the same, even though the dark painful splotches on her pale skin were hard to ignore.

She came over every day to help me with homework. The gang got used to her being around, and often asked her to sit down on the couch with them for some Mickey Mouse episodes and chocolate cake. They all liked being with her, even Steve. _Steve!_ Who would have thought? It blew me away.

Hell, _she _blew me away.

There were a lot of nights where I couldn't sleep, I just kept thinking about her. Her smile, her laugh, her eyes. Glory, she had pretty eyes. I wondered what would have happened to me if she never said hello that first day. I'd still be failing school, I knew that. I'd still be forgetting everything (I was getting a lot better remembering), but most of all I knew I'd probably be… alone. I mean, I'd have the gang, but with Johnny gone, I'd have no one I could really talk to, no one who understood my books and sunsets.

But Heather was everything. She got me back on track after everything that had happened. She was there when I needed her. Eager to help, eager to listen.

She was an angel. My angel.

But I couldn't help but think… could she _possibly_ feel the same way?

0-0-0

"She was right, you know."

I looked up at Heather, curled up with her arms around her legs. We were sitting on the edge of the lake, about a month after the DX incident. We had been talking for about two hours now, and we suddenly got back to that topic (don't ask how -- I don't remember). She looked so frail then. Maybe it was just the light. But in that moment she looked… smaller. More vulnerable.

I knew what she was talking about. "Shoot, everyone's family life sucks, especially on the East side." My fingers went to my pocket, where my cigarettes would have been, but then I remembered Heather had taken them away from me. She flipped out a few days ago, saying nothing good comes from sucking smoke.

I couldn't say I blamed her, but man I was just itching for a drag.

"I know, but… not just about my parents. About my grades, too."

I remembered Amy's cruel, mocking voice. _"Did you get another A to feel better about your whore of a mother?"_

"Dad was always nuts. Gambled away everything and drank too much. He started hitting mom and me and Jamie."

"Jamie?"

"My little brother."

"Oh."

She sighed. "Mom started cheating. Guess she thought Jamie and I weren't good enough. She wanted to feel loved by somebody new. She was out every night, and Jamie and I just hid upstairs, away from Dad.

"Then there was one day we were in the kitchen when Mom came home." she picked up a small rock and started rolling it around in her fingers. "Dad was livid. He came at her with a broken bottle… then Jamie… tried to stop him."

I could see her eyes watering, but she kept them back. "Mom felt so bad about Jamie trying to save her she went ahead and shot herself anyway. She left me with Dad."

"That's the bruises then, right?" it was more of a statement than a question. I gestured toward her arms. The cuts and blotches had gotten worse over the weeks.

She nodded. "I used to hide up in my room and do and redo my homework just to stay away from him. I got perfect grades but a crappy life." She stared into the smooth water, looking at our reflections. "The A's made me feel a little better. For a while I thought being smart would make me someone worthwhile. So when I looked in the mirror, I'd see someone significant… but I was wrong."

I watched her lips tremble, though she tried to hide it.

"I'm just the same as the rest of them. Ordinary, forgettable… I see _nothing_." She threw the rock into the water, obscuring our image.

"Oh, Heather…" I gently scooped her up and cradled her on my lap while she started to quietly cry. "You _are_ significant. You're kind and selfless and you helped me when no one else could figure out how. You gave me a friend after what I did…"

She looked up at me, bleary eyed. "What could you have possibly done to make someone _not_ want to be your friend, Ponyboy Curtis?"

So I told her about what happened. About the night at the park, about Johnny killing Bob, about Windrixville. About dyeing my hair and living off baloney for a week, about _Gone With The Wind._ About the fire and the rumble and Dally. About getting sick and not being able to do anything right.

"But then you showed up…" I pulled her closer to me, breathing in the sweet apple scent of her hair, "You came right up and became my friend when I had none, no questions asked. You helped me get my life back together while it was falling apart in front of me. Heather, you've changed me. Do you think I could forget that?"

She looked up at me, smiling sadly yet jokingly. "You forget a lot of things, Ponyboy."

I laughed quietly. "Not anymore. Not since you came." I kissed her lightly on the forehead and whispered in her ear, "You are so much more than ordinary, Heather Reed."

I felt her relax in my arms and she breathed out slowly. "Pony," she sighed, "Can I tell you something?"

"You know you can tell me anything." I murmured.

She really smiled then, her eyes bright, almost glowing gold. "I love you."

I smiled back at her, a real smile like I haven't felt myself do in what seemed like forever. "I hoped you would say that."

Then she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me close, and the next thing I knew she was kissing me and I was kissing her, softly but so passionately I couldn't feel the ground beneath me anymore. We were flying high, far away from Tulsa, from greasers and Socs and everything bad in the world. We were in the country, where no one could tell us what we could and couldn't do and where the only thing keeping us on Earth was gravity.

But then she broke away and we were back at the lake, and although the ground was beneath us again my heart was still racing as though we were still flying.

She was smiling, and her eyes glowed even brighter, like a pair of stars in the night sky.

She turned and pointed across the lake. "Look."

I did, and I felt my smile broaden, something I didn't think possible.

The sun was only half visible above the horizon, gleaming like a fallen ember, sending a shimmering path across the water that ended just beyond our feet. The sky was streaked with colors no artist could paint: vivid yellows and burning pinks, pale periwinkle and bright ultramarine. The colors seemed to drip from the sky, making the trees sparkle with an other-worldly light.

"Sunset." I murmured.

"It's perfect." Heather whispered, curling herself up closer to me.

"Perfect." I repeated and rested my head on top of hers. She sighed contentedly.

We sat in a comforting, peaceful silence as the sun fell deeper and deeper below the horizon, throwing out color after beautiful color, desperate to go out with a flourish. Eventually it disappeared and the colors darkened to a flat indigo. A handful of stars winked down at us and the lake turned to a glossy black mirror.

I lightly kissed Heather on top of her head. She breathed in slowly, waking up from her dose. "What time is it?" she whispered.

"Late." I whispered back. I stood and lifted her gently to her feet. We started heading back to my place. A cold breeze started blowing, and she clung to me to keep from shivering. I kept one arm wrapped around her waist. It felt good, having her that close. Like she was supposed to be there… You know what I mean?

By the time we got home the sky was almost navy blue, and I was glad it was the weekend. Darry would have killed me for staying out so late.

We walked in to see Soda, Steve and Two-Bit playing poker, the TV quietly playing some candy commercial. Darry walked into the kitchen to check the macaroni cooking on the stove. It was a lot earlier than I thought -- barely past eight o' clock.

"Well, little buddy, I'm surprised." he said, not looking up from the pasta, "You came home just in time for dinner. I wasn't even worried yet."

I grinned sheepishly, and Heather laughed.

"Hey, Heather, you wanna stay for dinner?" Soda asked, glancing up from his hand, and though I could hear the eagerness in his voice, he kept his expressionless poker face on. (I could see why: he had a royal flush.)

"Sure!" Heather replied, then added, a little shyly, "But only if Darry doesn't mind."

Darry rolled his eyes before he turned to us. "How many times do I have to say it? You're Ponyboy's friend, and any friend of my kid brother is welcome here." He eyed my arm around her waist and grinned. "Though now you seem to be a little more than just friends."

"OooooOOOOOooo!!" Soda and Two-Bit chorused.

Heater and I burst out laughing, then made our way to the table. Steve ended up winning the poker mach, much to the other two's chagrin, and with Heather with us, he was a lot happier than usual. I don't think he shot me a single hate glare the entire meal. There's Heather for you. She brightens up the darkest of people.

I wonder if it's her eyes.

0-0-0

It was close to eleven when Darry drove Heather home. We said our goodbyes and I watched the pickup drive away until I couldn't make out the taillights anymore. I hoped her old man wouldn't pitch a fit or anything. She was such a sweet girl, she didn't deserve that kind of crap at home.

That got me thinking. She was real tough, for not showing any of that the whole time I knew her. But she wasn't hard, like Dally was. After everything, she wasn't afraid to still feel. She wasn't afraid to still be human, to still be Heather, not some cold, uncaring shell, like Dally was.

Huh.

I went up stairs and fell into bed, even though I wasn't all that tired. Didn't bother to change clothes. I curled up and stared at the ceiling, still unable to get her out of my head.

Soda came in soon afterward, laughing quietly. Two-Bit must have said something before he went out for the night. I felt the blankets move beside me and Soda curled up next to me.

"You still awake, Pony?"

"Yeah."

Soda sighed, rolling on to his back. He didn't say much for a long time, but then, "Damn, that Heather sure is something."

I smiled. "I know it."

"Be sure not to lose her, Pony."

I looked over at him, and he was staring right back at me. "Be sure not to let her end up like Sandy."

I nodded.

He turned back to the ceiling. "You keep her close. 'Cause if she's the right one… you don't want to let her go. Pony, she'll change your life."

"She already has, Soda. She already has."

**Another long one… Really hope you liked it! **


	5. Chapter 5

I wanted to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but I was too stunned to move.

Oh. My. God.

We were in English that Monday, about a minute left until the end of the day, and everyone was getting up out of their seats to talk to friends. Mr. Jones had just handed us all our report cards. The flimsy paper shook in my hand.

_I don't believe it._

"Hey, Pony." Heather came up beside me, hugging her books tightly.

Wordlessly I handed her what had me so speechless. "Look at this!" I was so close to shouting, but managed to keep my voice relatively controlled. "All A's! _A's!"_

Heather just smiled. "You always were a fast learner. I knew you could do it."

"Not without you, I couldn't have."

"Oh, please."

"Don't deny it, Heather, you're an angel."

She rolled her eyes, but her grin lit up her face so she looked even more heavenly than before, if that were possible.

The bell suddenly rang, a drawn out monotone scream that cleared everyone quickly from the room, except us two. As soon as they were gone I stood up and swept her into a tight hug. She laughed.

I set her back down, grinning ear to ear. "Darry'll be so excited!" I exclaimed, "We should celebrate. My house tonight. We'll have everyone over and…" I trailed off, seeing how her face suddenly darkened, looking like a wilted flower. "What?" I whispered.

She sighed, looking down. "I'm so sorry… I can't come over tonight. I just…"

"S'okay." That really put me down (No Heather? _WHAT?!_), but I didn't want her to feel worse. She obviously felt really bad about it already. I could see it in her eyes. But my stomach still clenched nervously. What had happened that I suddenly couldn't see her anymore?

She shifted her books in her arms uncertainly. "I'll see you tomorrow, I guess." She murmured.

"Yeah, of course." I bent down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I'll be waiting."

She flushed and smiled at me, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Bye," she whispered, then left the room.

I watched her go, worry eating at me with sharp teeth.

_What's wrong?_

-0-0-0-

I walked into the house quietly and set my backpack by the door, light from lack of homework, next to Two-Bit's sneakers. "Get a job, Two-Bit!" I shouted.

"Aw, but then I wouldn't get to see my favorite kid named Ponyboy right when he gets home from school, now, would I?"

I smirked, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." I collapsed into the recliner, sighing.

Two-Bit looked up from where he lay on the floor with a confused expression. "No Heather?"

"No Heather. Had something to do this evening."

He frowned. "She'll be here tomorrow, though, right?"

I shrugged. "Dunno."

He was quiet. That shocked me. Two-Bit Matthews, speechless? No jokes? No smart ass remarks? But there he was, eyes sad and empty, turning back to his TV flipping.

Guess he liked having her around more than I thought. Though I couldn't blame him. Who _couldn't_ like Heather Reed?

We sat and watched some old game show for about an hour but when that was over, we started flipping channels again. We didn't say anything. It was one of those silences that let you think about everything and nothing at the same time. I just stared unblinkigly at the screen without really seeing it, my thoughts a jumble. One idea led to another completely different, and then another and another until I was confusing myself by not knowing what I was thinking about.

Wow, how depressing.

By the time Sodapop and Steve walked into the door, Two-Bit and I were watching static, the white noise a harsh, cold knife cutting through our silence. I was only vaugley aware of everything that was going on.

"Oh, it's my favorite show!" Soda exclaimed, throwing his keys on the table and plopping onto the couch.

"It's a rerun." Two-Bit sighed, shutting off the TV. I still stared.

"Well, it's a shame we've missed out on such fun," Steve muttered sarcastically. "Darry will have a tough time calming down this party."

"What's the deal?" My brother asked, standing back up and standing beside me. I continued my staring. "Where's Heather?"

"Couldn't come." Two-Bit stood, groaning, and shambled into the kitchen for a beer. He grumbled angrily when he couldn't find one. "Something else to do tonight, I suppose."

"That so, Pony?" I heard him, but it didn't register that the question was directed to me. When I didn't reply, he waved an open hand in front of my face. "Pone? Hello? Ponyboy?" He smacked me on the cheek.

Startled, I jumped up and fell out of the recliner. Steve and Two-Bit roared with laughter.

"Jesus!" I shouted, getting to my feet.

"My name is Sodapop!" he threw up his arms, exasperated.

I sighed, putting a hand over my eyes. I hadn't realized, in my daze, what a headache I had.

"You okay?" Soda ruffled my hair.

I nodded. "Yeah. Just a headache. I think I'm gonna go lay down."

He looked a little worried, but he nodded. "Got any homework?"

I remembered eighth hour with a jolt, surprising me into falling agian. "No!" I exclaimed, crawling over to my backpack. I hurredly unzipped it and started digging for my folder.

Soda watched me with confusion, so did the other two. "...huh?"

"I FOUND IT!" I shouted, throwing up the paper victoriously.

"Found what?" Darry walked in right then and grabbed the paper out of the air. He read it through, his eyes widening. When he turned back to me he had a mixed expression of shock and happiness, and he looked so funny I couldn't help but fall over laughing.

Soda shook his head. "What's the deal?" He asked, coming up behind Darry to read over his shoulder. His eyes bugged out of his head and he ran over to me and picked me up, spinning me around, laughing with me.

Two-Bit and Steve exchanged bewildered expressions. "Umm..."

Darry shook the paper. "English, history, sience, reading, math, all A's!"

Two-Bit jumped. "Seriously?"

Darry opened it up and ran through it again as Soda and I spun passed him. "Here, he's got a note from the teacher."

"Read it! Read it!" Soda chanted, pulling me up onto his back.

"_'Ponyboy has improved his grades drastically within the past few months.'_ It says, _'I am_ very _impressed!'_"

Steve shrugged, but his eyebrows were up in his hair so I knew he was just as surprised. "Good job, kid."

Soda carried me back over to them. Two-Bit was grinning like an idiot -- which he was, but that's beside the point -- and Darry came over and pulled me off Soda's shoulders, crushing me in his giant bear hug. "I'm so proud of you, Pony!" he said.

I was beaming when he put me down, then I remembered...

"What?" Darry asked, seeing my face.

"I owe it to Heather." I said, "I couldn't have done that without her helping me out. You know I couldn't have. I'm just a little put out 'cause she couldn't come tonight, that's all."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Not even for this?"

I shrugged. "Guess not. She was real sad about it, too."

He thought for a minute, then, "Should we wait to celebrate until tomorrow then? Or the weekend?"

I nodded. "I think that'd be better."

Silence.

Soda coughed, breaking the tension. "So, uh, what's for dinner?"

"Some crap, you don't want it." Two-Bit pipqued.

Darry cuffed him hard over the head, and he laughed. "I was kidding! Glory, glory!"

"You had better be." he turned back to Soda. "Whatever you all want."

Now that the excitement had died down, I could feel my headache again. I rubbed the side of my head. "I don't really care," I stated, "I'm gonna go lay down for a bit. Call me when you've got food."

Darry gave a significant look to Soda, but just said, "Sure. Go ahead."

My room was real dark and cold with the blinds closed. I fell on the matress and twisted myself up in blankets, letting the throbbing in my head lull me to sleep.

-0-0-0-

Soda came up a little while later, saying sloppy joe's were ready. I followed him back down to the table where everyone was waiting.

We ate in silence. It was a weird silence, the kind where you don't just _know_ something's missing, you can _feel_ it, too. It made me nervous.

I hadn't realized how much the rest of the gang needed Heather. It made me miss her even more.

**Yeah, not too exciting... Please reveiw anyway! Next chapter will be better!**


	6. Chapter 6

**And so the plot thickens…. -ominous music-**

**Thanks again all you wonderful reviewers! You make my day!**

I didn't sleep well. It wasn't a real dream, but it was... weird. There were voices rushing past me like the wind, blurry images floating in and out of focus. There were faces I thought I recognized but I couldn't remember their names, places I knew I'd been to before but couldn't place where...

"Ponyboy."

My eyes flew open. Soda was beside the bed, pulling a shirt over his head. "Rise and shine, kiddo, you'll be late."

I groaned, rolling over. "Five minutes."

"No, now." Suddenly he lifted me from the bed and had me slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Ack, Soda! Stop!" He kicked open the door and carried me down the hallway as I pounded half-heartily on his back with my fists. I was too tired to put up a fight.

I heard Darry laughing. "These are the extremes the prince has to go to wake up sleeping beauty?"

"Shut it."

Soda set me on my feet before pushing me into a chair. He pointed to the toast in front of me. "Eat. Get dressed. You've got 15 minutes before I throw your ass out of the house. Give you a head start to school."

I glared at him. "Fine, _Darry_."

His serious face broke cleanly into a huge smile as he started laughing.

I wasn't all that hungry. I picked at the toast and only ate about half of one slice before I went back into my room to change clothes. My head was still spinning from the dream and I felt a little sick, almost nervous. I hoped seeing Heather would calm me down.

-0-0-0-

But I never did calm down.

Heather wasn't there.

What was going on? Since her first day here she had never missed a day of school. Since we first started tutoring she had always come to my house right after school. What was keeping her away from me?

I couldn't sit still. My fingers would keep tapping or my knee would keep bouncing or I'd be shooting glances at the clock or I'd be flipping mindlessly through my textbooks. I couldn't help it. I couldn't even pay any attention to the lessons. Instead I was coming up with different reasons why she wasn't here. I stayed with the safest: her dad needed her to cook dinner last night, and today she wasn't feeling too hot.

I didn't convince myself. I knew something was really wrong.

I practically ran home. Don't really know why. I mean, all that's at home is more worrying. I was internally kicking myself for being so stupid. Nearly five months of knowing the girl and never once had I thought to get her number. Maybe Darry would drive me to her place when he got back. He knew where she lived...

I threw open the door and chucked my backpack down the hall. I was shaking. I reached into my pocket. I cigarette would calm me down...

Then I remembered Heather took my Kools.

"Dammit!" I shouted, throwing one of the kitchen chairs across the linoleum.

"I don't think Darry'll be too happy to find you're throwing the furniture around."

I turned around to see Two-Bit leaning coolly on the wall beside the front door. I hadn't heard him come in.

But thank God he was here.

I flicked out my lighter. "Gimme a smoke." I said.

"Now hold up, Ponyboy, you haven't had one in--"

"Just give me a goddamn smoke or so help me you will not sit right for a week!"

"Easy, easy!" he reached into his back pocket and threw me a weed. "Here."

I lit it eagerly and breathed in a long, greatly needed drag. I sighed, the smoke curling up around my face, steadying my jumpy nerves. I sunk into one of the still-standing chairs and held my head in my hand.

"Glory, Pony, I ain't never seen you like this." Two-Bit said, picking up the chair I threw and sitting next to me. "What's going on?"

I laughed bitterly, taking another long drag. "I've been asking myself that all day."

Two-Bit waited patiently, something he's hardly ever good at, let alone willing to do.

"She's gone." I muttered, "I don't even know where she was last night, let alone today. She could be sick or hurt or... I don't know. And I hate not knowing. It makes me nervous. I just... I..."

He put a big hand on my shoulder. I hadn't realized I was close to tears. "Calm down, kiddo. I'll bet she's fine."

The cigarette was almost gone. I crushed it in my hand, ignoring the pain. "But you can't tell for sure, can you?"

-0-0-0-

Of course, good ol' Two-Bit can't keep his mouth shut to Darry about anything since the rumble. Darry was all up in my space, scolding me for smoking in the house, for scaring Two-Bit so bad. (admittedly I must have looked a mess, so I didn't mind that one.) He checked my temperature ("You can't be feeling well if you lost your cool like that.") and asked if I had a headache. I lied and said I felt fine, but he didn't believe me for a second and told me to go lay down anyway.

I plopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. I had calmed down a lot, wasn't so jumpy and everything, but that didn't stop the worrying. What if she was really sick? What if her dad beat her too bad? What if... what if...?

After a while I couldn't take just sitting there, so I went down to help with dinner, despite Darry telling me to go back to bed. There wasn't much more to do anyway, so soon we were all sitting at the table eating grilled cheese. We didn't say much. I guess they all knew that talking would end up in what happened this afternoon, and since no one wanted to bring that up again, we were silent.

I still wasn't very hungry, but I ate a little before I escaped to my bedroom to do my math homework. None of it was making sense, and I soon got too angry at it to do anything. I threw it across the room and tossed and turned in bed until eleven.

-0-0-0-

I had a nightmare.

Maybe it was Heather being gone that caused it. Maybe it was having a smoke after so long without one. I don't know. But at any rate, it wasn't just _a_ dream. It was _the_ dream. The one I could never remember. The one that scared me more than anything else.

The reason I'm screaming.

I'm shaking all over, drenched in cold sweat. It makes my skin crawl. My eyes are wide open and I'm crying, but they won't shut so everything is real blurry. I feel like I've got cotton balls shoved in my ears, and there's a faint ringing coming from somewhere, like an alarm.

I see Soda fall out of bed beside me, startled out of sleep. He untangles himself and jumps back on the bed in front of me. His mouth is moving, but I can't hear. I've stopped screaming, but I'm hyperventilating, trying to breathe through lungs collapsed from fear.

The light flicks on as Darry comes in, eyes wild, and races over to us. Soda says something to him, then he is turning me toward him, his huge hands cuppig my face. He's saying something to me, and I think it's 'Ponyboy', but the ringing just gets louder and I can't tell.

Suddenly I freeze up and my stomach clenches. Darry scoops me up and suddenly I'm on the bathroom floor, hurling grilled cheese. When I finally stop I'm gasping, suffocating. The ringing si getting louder and louder until it's everywhere, sharp and blaring. I clap my hands over my ears, squeezing my eyes shut.

_"STOP!"_

It surprised me that it listened. The only sound is my rapid breathing for a long time. Then, "Ponyboy?"

I look up at Darry. His hair is messed up and he's sweating like crazy. He's got his hands on my shoulders so I don't fall. "Ponyboy, you're okay. It's just a dream."

I breathe in shakily, then fall into him, bawling. He pulls me into a tight hug, rocking me gently and whispering reassurances. After a while I can't cry anymore and I pull away.

"Glory, Pone, you about gave me a heart attack!" Soda exclaims, feeling my forehead.

"What time is it?" I whisper -- it's all I can manage.

"Around four." Darry says. He looks at me. "That was your worst yet."

"I know," I whimper, "I know..."

"Shh..." he tries to calm me, squeezing me gently. Then he asks, a little tentatively, "Did you... remember anything this time?"

I let out a little sob and curl closer to Darry. "It was so dark..."

He picks me up again and we head down the hall. Soda is turning on lights as we go. I'm not sure why, but makes me feel safer. Darry sets me gently on the couch and goes to the kitchen with Soda to get some coffee.

I'm trying to pull myself together. _Just a dream, just a dream..._ I wonder of Heather ever has dreams like this. I really hope not. She's got it bad enough as it is.

Darry and Soda sit on either side of me and flick on the TV. I think we all know none of us are going back to bed after that. I feel really bad about it. They needed their sleep for work. But we just stayed quiet, watching the screen, trying to forget.

But we had only been watching for about half and hour when I heard the doorknob turn. Startled, I whipped my head around and watched the front door bang open and a slim, broken figure stumbled in, breathing hard. Her hair hung in limp strands around her face, wet with blood, and she held her torso with her right arm. A sickly red stain was seeping through her shirt.

I jumped up as my stomach plummeted. "Oh, no. _Heather!_"


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry I haven't updated in so long! I've been distracted by several addicting books and a series of shiny things ;) But, here's more. Finally.**

Heather swayed dangerously on her feet, and I ran around the couch and caught her just before she fell. Lowering her gently to the floor, I could see the deep cuts that shredded her face, the dark bruises covering her skin like a disease.

"Heather? Heather, can you hear me?"

She let out a strangled breath, managing to say, "Yes."

Darry and Soda were beside me now. Darry knelt down on her other side, checking the cuts on her face and arms with gentle hands. He carefully lifted her arm from her waist, and I grimaced when I saw the bloodstain stretched across almost her entire front. He peeled up just the bottom of her sweater to see the damage.

A long, deep slash stretched from her right hip to just above the bottom of her left ribcage. Blood still pounded out, the sickening, acrid smell of it filling my senses. The edges were purple and yellow, infected. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Soda putting a hand over his mouth, closing his eyes, the color draining from his face. He looked like I felt.

I gently pushed her hair from her face. My fingers came back red. "What happened?" I asked her.

She coughed, still trying to steady her breathing. "It w-was… J-Jamie… It was Jamie all… all over again."

I stiffened, remembering what she'd told me of her little brother. _"Dad was livid. He came at us with a broken bottle…"_

Without thinking I scooped her up in my arms, noting the pool of blood where her head was, and carried her out the door. My brothers didn't question me, just followed me to the driveway and into the truck. I laid her carefully in the pickup bed, then jumped in myself as Darry started the engine. Soon we were racing down the street, me cushioning Heather's head in my lap.

I was thankful there weren't any cops around tonight, or we'd definitely get pulled over. The wind roared in my ears and whipped my hair around, for once not greased up. I shivered.

I remembered the night of the rumble, when Dally and I raced to the hospital only to see Johnny die. It had been a night just like this. I pushed the memory in the back of my mind. I'd lost two friends that night, and I didn't plan to lose a third now.

"Pony…"

I looked down. Her eyes were only half open, searching blindly for me. They were grey, vacant… lifeless. It scared me.

"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here." I murmured, holding her head gently in my hands.

"Ponyboy…" she coughed, her breath coming harder and harder, "Ponyboy, I'm sorry… so sorry…"

"Shh, baby, it's okay. You'll be okay."

But her eyes slowly shut and she didn't move again.

-0-0-0-

The doctors said she was just unconscious. When we made it to the hospital I was crying even though I was trying real hard not to show the tears. They rushed her away into another room. I tried to follow, but they wouldn't let me. It took Darry and Soda and several doctors to calm me down and pull me away from the hallway they took Heather down.

I tried to sit while we waited, but I couldn't stay still. I stood up and started pacing back and forth, back and forth. It wasn't until Darry told me to calm down that I realized I was nearly running.

I was so scared. So worried. I think the only time I'd ever been this scared before was when Johnny killed Bob. Hell, only the dream surpassed this kind of fear.

It seemed like forever before someone came out to talk to us. The doctor said Heather would probably make it. She had a bad concussion, four broken ribs, several infected cuts, and major blood loss. He asked where they could find her family, saying she would die unless someone donated blood, and her family would have the same blood type. I convinced him that it would take to long to get her father here.

"Well, sir, what do you suggest then?" The doctor asked.

So they went through with my proposal. They took me into another room and stuck a long needle in my forearm. It didn't hurt, just looked weird when the started pumping out blood into a little bag hanging from a pole. They said the wouldn't take much, but it sure looked like a lot. Still, I wondered if it was enough.

The nurse took some with an eye dropper and put it under a microscope. "B negative," she said, then pulled back and smiled at me. "It's a match."

They had to send in Soda to help me back to the waiting room because I couldn't walk on my own. I was too dizzy. He guided me to a bench where I curled up and shut my eyes. The cool plastic felt good against my head and helped stop the floor from tilting under me.

Sleep never came.

-0-0-0-

It was nearly nine o' clock when the doctors came back out. I'd regained my balance when the sun came up, and since then Darry and Soda and I had been talking. We knew that after this, the social workers would get involved. If they met Heather's father… she'd be out of that home faster than you could say 'Bubba loves trucks'.

I knew that would have been good for her, to get away from her dad. But they would take her to an orphanage or to some distant relative who lived far away from Tulsa.

Far away from me.

So we decided we'd lie. If we were convincing enough, we might be able to gain custody of her.

But anyway, the doctor who'd talked to us before came up to us, a clipboard bouncing at his hip. "She's waking up." he said, "She should be alright."

I didn't even wait for an okay. I darted down the hall and into the room I somehow knew she was in.

The room was almost blindingly white, smelling stronger of bleach and latex gloves than the hallway or the lobby. Heather lay on a bed in the center of the room, and I almost got sick looking at all the tubes and wires stuck in her. A monitor in the corner beeped on sync with a jagged line that bounced up and down the screen repetitively. Her heart beat.

I walked to her side quietly, more than a little nervous. I'd heard of people who got in really bad accidents before and couldn't remember anything when they woke up. Would she remember me?

Her eyes stayed closed when I approached her. She looked especially pale right then, making the scars and bruises stand out even more. I remembered when I was in Windrixville with Johnny, how he looked so much younger when he was asleep. I remembered nights when I couldn't sleep and I'd see Sodapop next to me, the moonlight making him look six instead of sixteen.

Heather didn't look younger. She looked dead.

I pulled up a plastic chair from the corner and took her hand in mine. "Heather?"

Her eyelids fluttered, then she turned to me. They were more jade than gold today, but at least they were open. "Hey," she whispered.

I exhaled slowly, relieved, and brought her hand to my lips. "Oh God," I murmured, my eyes closed, "I was so scared…"

I could hear the forced smile in her voice. "I'm sorry. But I'm okay now, it'll be fine."

"Maybe." I rested my head on her bed, my fingers tracing the veins on her hands.

"Don't worry," she breathed, "I'll be out of here in no time."

I didn't tell her they might take her away. Didn't tell her that we might be separated. I figured she had too much to think about as it is. Instead I asked, "Do you remember what happened?"

She was quiet for a while. Nurses padded quietly in and out, checking on machines and tubes hooked into Heather. Darry and Soda still hadn't showed up; I guessed they were trying to convince the doctor we were her only family, that we were the best place for her to go.

I looked up when I heard her laughing mirthlessly. "God, I'm so _stupid_."

**Again, sorry for the uber long wait... I'll try to post more as soon as I can, but I'm going on a week long trip and I'm not sure if I'll have access to a computer. By the way, I plan to write the next chapter from Heather's POV, just because it'll be easier to explain.**

**Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Maybe I can post here after all! Yay! I hope you like this one... it took a while. Please comment!!**

Heather watched her friend vanish around the corner, half of her wanting to chase after him and the other half telling her to s

Heather stared straight ahead as she walked down the halls, willing herself not to turn back to Ponyboy. She knew he needed a better explanation than "I can't come tonight", but she couldn't tell him the truth, either.

What with Dad being so drunk all the time, he got himself fired to nights ago. He hadn't been paying all the bills anyway (Or rather, _Heather_ had paid as many as she could and it still wasn't enough), and without a steady paycheck, they'd lose everything. So she booked an appointment at Rusty's to get a job as a waitress. She'd have to tell Ponyboy at one point or another, to explain the end of their tutoring… but that's if she got the job. Besides, knowing the Curtises, they would want to take her in, and she knew they could barely provide for themselves as it was.

Sighing, she pressed her books tighter to herself and headed downstairs to her locker. She just hoped things would turn out to be better than they had been.

-0-0-0-

"So… Heather Reed?"

"Yes, sir."

The manager, a young man with surprisingly old eyes, glanced up from her papers to look at her. He coughed throatily, making the cigarette in his mouth shake dangerously. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "What's a straight A student trying to get a job in a place like this for?" he asked.

"I need the money," she said quietly.

"Girl, with grades like this you could go to college." He went on as if he hadn't heard her. "_Then_ think about a job. Be someone important."

"Sir," Heather repeated doggedly, "I need the money."

He sighed, going back to the papers. Heather watched his face with a sinking feeling. He was going to say no, she just knew it.

"It says here you don't turn fourteen until October." He said, a little surprised.

"Well, yes, but I'll work hard and never miss a day and –"

"I'm sorry." He set the papers down with a snap that seemed to echo in the small room. "I can't higher someone who's as young as you."

Heather sat up straighter. "I know, but I can do a lot and I'll learn fast and I really need –"

"I'm sorry," he said again, and he looked like he meant it. He stood up and reached across the table to shake her hand. "Maybe in another year or two." Then he walked out the door, leaving Heather in the tiny, dimly lit, smoke filled office. She slouched in her chair, sighing defeatedly. Maybe she could find a gas station to work at. She could work the cash register or something.

She stared up at the single naked light bulb dangling above her head. It was probably getting late, and she had to walk home. She hoped her father was passed out she wouldn't have to cook dinner. Being surrounded by so much second hand smoke made her lose her appetite. And gave her a horrible headache.

-0-0-0-

Unfortunately, she came home to an awake Brandon Reed, who was already angry because the Yankees won.

"Hey," he asked, his voice raspy and slurred, as the door shut behind her. "Where've you been?"

"Just trying to get a job, Dad." Heather replied, hanging up her sweater.

Suddenly a pair of big, sweaty hands grabbed her head and forced her to turn, facing the clock. She bit back a scream.

"You see what time it is?" he shook her.

"I-it's just past eight." She whispered.

"And you were supposed to be home at seven to make my dinner!" he shoved her to the ground, her shoulder smashing painfully into the corner of the entable. "I am more important than any goddamn job you will ever have! Remember that!" he kicked her in the side before going back to his beer and TV. "Now go get me a sandwich."

"Yes, Daddy."

-0-0-0-

The alarm clock screamed in her ears the next morning, seemingly louder than usual and doing little help for her headache. She groaned and rolled over to knock it from the stand. With a crash it fell to the floor and the ringing stopped.

Heather had been sick before, but this was almost too much to handle. Her head was throbbing fit to burst, her side ached where her father had kicked her the night before, and her entire body felt five times heavier than usual. She could barely move.

She groaned again. There was no way she could make it through a school day. She wasn't even sure if she could get out of bed. She wished she could be with Ponyboy. To feel his arms around her, his soft, quiet voice… with him, everything was okay.

She quickly fell back to sleep, dreaming of him.

The second time she woke up she felt just as bad, but figured she had slept enough and forced herself out of bed. She found her clock and nearly dropped it again. She'd slept the whole day away; it was already four o' clock!

Sighing, she went to her desk and wrote a letter to Ponyboy. It was something to do until she had to go down to make dinner. Absently, she wondered if her father even noticed she was still home.

-0-0-0-

Seven came by faster than she would have liked, and soon Heather was heading downstairs. Every movement put pressure on the sides of her head, as though someone with very large hands were squeezing her temples. She wondered if there was any aspirin in the cabnet.

She made it to the kitchen, reaching above the sink to grab a pot. They'd have chicken soup tonight; it's what she really wanted right then.

She heard heavy breathing behind her, suddenly cut off by a loud gulp. "Hey, Dad." She said, "Is soup okay with—"

Suddenly she was knocked to the floor, the pot tumbling from her hand with a painfully loud clatter. She looked up into her father's bloodshot eyes, wild with anger. "Where is it?" he breathed.

Heather slowly got to her feet. "I don't know what you're talking about."

That got her another smack across the head, making her eyes rattle in their sockets. "You know what. Where's my beer?"

Internally, Heather gulped. She knew he'd figure it out someday, but she didn't think he'd realize she had been slowly getting rid of the beer so soon. Every night since he got fired, she'd go downstairs and throw out one bottle of the junk, hoping he wouldn't get so tanked all the time. But he wasn't as stupid as she'd thought.

"It's gone," she murmured.

He threw her against the counter, the edge digging into her back. "Whaddya mean, 'gone'?"

"I mean I threw it out!"

His eyes narrowed, face flushed. He took another large gulp from his bottle, then broke it against the side of the sink. Glass and beer flew around the room, scratching her skin and falling to the lenolium like rain.

Eyes widening, Heather's mind raced with images just like this… Glass gleaming in the light of the TV, her father charging at her mother, backed up against the door… Jamie, sweet, sweet Jamie, jumping in front of her, arms out wide…

"I'll teach you not to mess with my things…" he hissed, raising the bottle above his head.

Heather screamed, trying to run from the kitchen, but her father grabbed her by the hair and turned her around. As she pulled away, the bottle came down hard on her left side, dragging down to her right hip. She gasped in pain, falling backward and slamming her head into the corner of the island. The world went red for a moment, stars dancing before her eyes, the pain so intense she couldn't feel anything beneath her neck.

When she could see and feel again, pain exploded through her veins and her father was dragging her to her feet only to throw her across the room. She slid across the lenolium, too stunned to get back up.

Her father followed, kicking her over and over again. _"Never… touch… my… things!"_ he shouted.

Heather was screaming, trying and failing to keep the tears back. She crawled forward to the counter, pulling herself up. It took all she had to stay upright as her father slammed his fists into her back. She stumbled toward the door, barely managing to open it before the bottle smashed beside her head. She staggered down the stairs, running as fast as she could into the street.

"You run away!" he shouted after her. "Get out of here! You ever show your face here again I'll skin you alive, you filthy whore!"

Heather's feet pounded against the concrete irregularly as she tried to keep her balance. The world was tipping beneath her, and every breath sent jolts of firey pain through her. She told herself to go to Pony's house, but suddenly she didn't know which way that was. Sobbing, she looked around for something familiar, someone who could help her…

She felt blood dripping down her neck, felt the itch along her torso. She clutched it, trying to slow down the bleeding, and kept running. _Ponyboy... Ponyboy… Ponyboy…_

She didn't know how long she was running or even if she was going in the right direction. Nothing made sense. Where was she? Why couldn't she think clearly? Suddenly everything blurred, and she felt the ground slam into her side. The pain died a little, and then there was nothing…

She woke up in even more pain. Her body screamed in protest as she struggled to her feet, her head spinning. She realized she wasn't too much farther from Pony's house. Gritting her teeth, she started off in the direction she thought was right, willing herself not to slow down.

She swerved in and out of the street. Cars honked as they passed, the blare of their horns like knives stabbing into her ears. Her body resonated pain, and she realized there was more blood dripping from her than she thought possible.

_How am I still alive?_

Finally the little, rundown house came into her view, and Heather let out a cry of relife. She staggered toward it with new fervor, but it seemed to take forever before she finally made it to the door. She shoved the door open and stumbled in, breathing quickly, painfully.

She turned toward the living room in time to see Ponyboy jump up from the couch. "Oh, no. _Heather_!" he screamed.

Seeing him, she suddenly felt at peace. The pain still seared, but her mind knew everything would be okay, even as her body didn't agree and she collapsed to the ground…

-0-0-0-

"…And, well, you know the rest."

I stared at her, realizing I had been trembling. "Oh, Heather…" I stood up and gently brought her into my arms, careful not to break any of the wires and tubes. She seemed to sink into me, and again I got that feeling like she was _supposed_ to be there. "We'll figure this out," I murmured, "You're gonna be okay."

"I know," she breathed, looking up at me. "I know."

I stayed with her until she fell back to sleep. Even then, Darry had to drag me away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks for the reviews! Also, please excuse the bit of swearing later on…**

Heather was healing slowly but surely. It had been a week since the accident, and even though she was still pretty bad off, the doctors said she'd be able to leave in a few days.

Darry had gained custody of her, "But only temporarily", as the social worker said it. Mr. Reed had been arrested, and when we explained heather didn't have any other immediate family, we made a compromise: we would get money from the state for her to stay with us, but they would send letters all over the country to find any distant relations to take care of her.

I pray she didn't have any.

But since I really didn't have any control over it, I pretended it didn't matter. I'd force myself through school and afterwards, would walk straight to the hospital to visit her (and on her insistence, bring her homework) until after sunset. Darry wanted me to come home while there was still light, but I didn't care. What good is a sunset when you can't watch it with the girl you love?

It was strange, really… even though Heather was so sick she couldn't walk on her own, it was like nothing had happened. She was still my bright, beautiful angel. We talked about everything: school, family, places we've been… before I knew it, she was telling me about Jamie, and I was telling her about the country, even Soda's horse.

"Ponyboy?" she asked me.

"Hmm?"

"Do you wish you could go back to the country?"

I sighed, tracing patterns on the back of her hand. "More than anything. I want to get away from the city, from Socs and Greasers and everything. I want to… to…"

"See the stars?" she said quietly.

I looked up. "What?"

She shifted carefully, sitting up a little straighter. "When bad things happen, it's hard to see the good things in the world." -- I thought of Johnny's letter, asking me to show Dally a sunset, and grimaced -- "You're blinded by your hate until hate is all you see, even though that's not all there is. Like how the city lights drown out the stars. But in country… you can clear your head. See everything good in the world again. You can see the stars."

I stared at her. "You ever been to the country before?"

"Once," she closed her eyes and leaned back on her pillow. "A _long_ time ago…"

I thought about that on my walk home. Johnny and I used to stay out in the lot watching the stars, no matter how cold it got. And even after Darry hollered at me or I'd had a bad day at school, everything seemed alright. Like looking at something so perfect made alt he blemishes of this life disappear.

But then I heard an engine revving behind me, and all the thoughts about stars and the country were blown from my mind as I turned to see a black Corvette parking a few feet away. Three Socs jumped out, looking pissed. And drunk. _Oh, please, no, _I prayed, starting to sweat despite the chill in the air, _Not this again. I can't do this all over again. _

"Hey, lookie here!" The one closest to me drawled, "We got ourselves a little greaser!"

The one to his right laughed quietly. "Yup. And he's the one that killed Bob, ain't he?"

The one on the left nodded. "Sure is."

"We don't appreciate greasers killin' our buddies. We oughtta teach you a lesson."

I tried to look tough, but my eyes were sweeping the street, looking for a busted pipe or a pop bottle I could use as a weapon. Nothing. (Gee, isn't this a familiar scene?)

"Hey," I said, looping my thumbs in my pockets, "I got the message when _my_ friend died."

"Nup." They were getting closer and closer, the scent of whiskey and English Leather making my head spin, and soon I was pushed up against a wall. "You ain't learned nothin'. And don't you think your friend dying makes it even; it'll take every worthless, greasy life on the East Side to make up for Bob's death."

Now I've been angry before. It takes a lot to get me really mad, and even then I usually just say stuff I don't mean. But I've _never_ been mad like this.

I never thought I'd ever meet someone so stuck up and self centered, so much better than anyone else, and after what he'd just said, I felt the flicker of fear inside me burst into a roaring, furious inferno.

I was so angry I couldn't see straight. I didn't even realize what I was doing until it was too late. Suddenly I was beating the hell out of al three, didn't even feel it when they flipped out their blades and cut my face and arms. My mouth formed the most foul curses that I didn't even think I knew. I felt the crush of bones beneath my fists, skin tearing beneath my nails, blood splattering on mean and didn't even slow down. I saw their blades flashing red in the moonlight, their eyes wide with fear. I could hear my swearing and theirs screaming, echoing in the near silent night.

After a long while of blind fury, I let two of them go, but held the third by the throat. "Listen, you little fucker," I said, my face inches away from his, "If _any_ of you show your ugly faces here, I will personally break every bone in your body." I shook him, and he whimpered. "You got that, dickhead? I see you again, I'll beat you so bad _no_ doctor could fix you. Now _scram_!" I threw him to the ground and, sobbing, he scrambled into the car and the three screeched away.

I stared after them, breathing hard and trying to calm down. Those damn Socs… sighing, I looked up as I continued walking home. It was too cloudy to see any stars.

-0-0-0-

When I got home I threw open the door and kicked my shoes off. I needed a shower.

Two-Bit was sprawled in front of the TV, watching Mickey Mouse, as usual. Soda and Steve were playing poker at the table, plates smeared with chocolate icing and cake crumbs sitting by their elbows. They looked up to greet me, but froze, stunned expressions on every face. Ignoring them, I started for the bathroom, but then Darry came out from the kitchen. "Ponyboy Curtis!" he hollered, "Where in God's name…" the anger in his voice died away until he wasn't speaking at all, just staring at me like I had three heads or something.

I cleared my throat, uncomfortable with them all staring at me. "Sorry I'm late," I said, taking a step closer to the bathroom, "I got held up. I'm gonna go take a shower."

I had my hand on the doorknob before Soda and Darry came to their senses. I heard a simultaneous "Ponyboy!", a chair falling over, and two sets of footsteps pounding after me. I sighed, turning to face their bewildered expressions. "Look, I just want to take a shower, alright?"

Darry grabbed my shoulders and searched my face, his eyes more frightened than I'd ever seen them. "What happened? What hurts? Where --"

"Darry, I'm fine!" I pulled away from him. Did I really look that bad? I knew them Socs had pulled blades on me, but golly, I couldn't feel a thing.

"Boy, you are _far_ from 'fine'." Soda stated, cupping my chin in his hands. His face was white. "You know you shouldn't walk alone at night…"

"I dunno what you're so worked up about," I grumbled.

"_This_ is!" Soda pulled his hands away, showing me his now gleaming red palms. I stared at them, stunned. "I…"

Darry pushed past Soda and dragged me into the bathroom. He bent my head over the sink before I could see my reflection in the mirror and starting splashing cold water on my face. I watched, astonished, as almost never-ending red flowed down the sink.

A few seconds later the water shut off and Soda shoved a towel in my face. When I was dry Darry started slapping Band Aids on my face, while Soda wiped off my bloody arms with a wet hankie.

"Glory, glory, Pone." Darry muttered, "The trouble you get into."

I bit back a retort, deciding I probably shouldn't get him angry. After all, I'd already scared them both out of their wits.

"Don't you hurt anywhere?" Soda asked.

I shook my head. "Didn't even notice the blood."

My brothers glanced worriedly at me, then at each other. "What happened?"

"Socs, that's what. They said some things…" my fists clenched, the memory of the anger flaring up fast. In spite of myself, I smiled. "I beat the tar outta 'em. I've never seen a Soc so scared, let alone three."

Darry nodded thoughtfully, but didn't say anything. He finished taping me up and sighed. "You'll have some nasty scars, but you'll live. You hungry?"

"Starved."

W headed back into the living room, abruptly stopping Steve and Two-Bit's whispered conversation on the couch. Soda shot them a look they both understood as _I'll tell you later._

We mostly talked about heather over our spaghetti. The whole gang had only come to see her once, and sometimes Two-Bit would show, but we all missed her. I thought about telling them about what she'd said about seeing stars and was about to ask Darry if we could go back to the country again soon when I stopped myself. We didn't have that kind of time or money, he'd tell me. I shouldn't think stupid things like that.

Oh well. I can still dream.


	10. Chapter 10

Just for a second, I want you to think back to when you were, say, three or four. Your mother always told you how to act in public, right? Do you remember the three most repeated rules?

_Look both ways, Don't talk to strangers, _and _Don't stare at people._

Well, everyone in school forgot that third rule.

I wished I could be invisible. The only time I've ever been so embarrassed was when Two-Bit and Soda were fooling around that time in church. I couldn't turn anywhere without meeting another pair of stunned, curious, scared, or even hate filled eyes. At first I thought it was the cuts and bandages and bruises all over my face and arms. I never did get a look at my own reflection -- I could style my hair by memory now and didn't need the mirror -- so maybe I really _did_ look real bad.

But then I saw that Soc.

Only one of the three had shown up at school. He walked sort of hunched over, bruises and cuts covering his face and arms. He kept sniffing and shivering like he had a cold or something, and when I walked past him in the hallway, his eyes got wide and he nearly ran the other way.

I was so confused. Had I really gone that crazy? Part of me knew I must have, remembering how angry I was, how much I enjoyed hearing their screams after what they said, but another part was as bewildered as the kids who stared from across the room. It was so unlike me, to actually fight like that. I mean, I'd beat the hell out of a Soc if I had to, on self defense or something, but not because I was angry, and they didn't even throw a punch before I flipped out.

I tried my best to concentrate on school with everyone's eyes burning holes in my back, but as the day went by, I worried more and more about how I'd explain all this to Heather. Oh, glory, would she have a fit. But I still wanted -- no, _needed_ -- to see her, so I figured I'd just have to deal with whatever reaction she gave me.

But I did decide to post pone it a little. After class I went to my English teacher with a question for my story.

"Mr. Jones?"

He looked up. "Yes, Ponyboy?"

"Am I allowed to say dammit in my story?" I was at the part when Johnny died and Dally flipped out. I thought I should use his exact words, but then, I wanted it to be school appropriate, too.

He looked a little surprised, blinking a few times. "Uh, I guess so…"

I nodded and smiled a little. "Thanks." I turned to go, but he stopped me.

"Oh, Ponyboy?"

"Yes?"

"I heard you were in a fight last night."

I bit my lip. "You heard right."

He had a slight smile on his lips, but his eyes were serious. "You're a smart kid, and I hate it when smart kids do stupid things."

_I know, Darry. _"Yes, sir."

"Just try to stay away from trouble, okay? I know you've had plenty of it this year."

"Yes, sir." Then I left.

But of course, I got stopped again on the steps outside. Two tall, dark haired boys in blue Madras stepped smoothly in front of me. "Hey," the first said, "You're the one that beat Jack and the boys last night."

I didn't deny it, just said, "I don't want any trouble."

"Well, tough, kiddo." the second said, "You got it."

"Just because you and your little greaser friends won the rumble doesn't mean we've forgotten about you killing Bob." the first continued, thrusting a finger in my face, " We're just as mad. And now we're even madder." he shoved me down the stairs, and I nearly fell flat on my face. "You better watch your back." Then they were gone.

I sighed, walking toward the hospital. Great, I thought, now I have Heather _and_ the Socs to worry about.

-0-0-0-

As I feared, Heather was a little more than surprised. The door hadn't even closed behind me and she was bombarding me with questions, eyes wide.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." I tried to calm her, very aware of the jagged, crazy beeps the heart monitor was making, as I pulled up a chair beside her.

"Fine? Pony, your face --"

"Believe me, them Socs are a lot worse off."

She frowned. "Tell me everything."

So I did, from the walk home last night to the threat on the stairs. "It wouldn't have been so bad if it was just the Socs staring or something," I said, "But it was _everyone_, no joke. Kids I don't even know were pointing and whispering. The teachers noticed, too." I sighed. "I just don't get it."

She sighed, too. "I don't think they do, either. They've always seen you as the quiet, dreamy boy who gets good grades and hardly gets into trouble. Well, aside from the Windrixville Incident. But then seeing what you did to that one boy, knowing there are two others at home even worse off…"

"I didn't mean to," I told her for the third time, "I was angry. I didn't know what I was doing. I --"

"I understand." she stopped me, smiling softly, "I know people do stupid things when their mad. But_ they_ don't understand. They don't know the whole story."

I rested my head on her mattress. "When did the doctor say you can come home?" I asked, voice muffled.

"Three days." she replied.

"That's the best thing I've heard all day."

-0-0-0-

So, after three long days of constant staring, the whole gang was talking and joking with Heather over mashed potatoes. She was happy to be away from the hospital, but the doctors had told her that she should still wait another few days before she could go back to school. (That was the downside; another "few days" of a backpack twice as heavy as it should be. _Joy_.)

I almost had to force her to go sit down with Two-Bit and watch TV; she wanted to do the dishes. "You go relax," I told her, "Soda and I'll get them."

"I live here now," she insisted, "I have some chores to do, too."

"Not on your first night!"

"I should get used to it."

"Go sit down!"

"Yeah, please!" Two-Bit called, "I'm lonely over here!"

"Hey!" Steve, who was lounging on the other side of the couch, yelled, "What am I, chopped liver?"

"No, diced. Plus you're boring."

Steve smacked him hard for that, and then they were tackling each other on the floor.

"Guys, knock it off!" Darry laughed, "Hey, Heather, why don't you come over here and calm these two down?"

I smiled. "Go get used to it, then."

She rolled her eyes, but she was grinning as she walked away. Two-Bit shoved Steve back on to the couch, shouted, "Yay!" and swept a laughing Heather off her feet, twirling her around before setting her in his lap for the duration of the cartoon. Darry winked at me.

I grinned. Things were going back to normal.

-0-0-0-

Of course, Heather had to win _one _argument that day. When everyone else left and it was getting late, Soda and I stood and watched Darry and Heather arguing good-naturedly over who slept in Darry's bed.

"You need your sleep," she denied, "You won't get it on a couch."

"And _you_ need your rest. You won't be comfortable on a couch."

"I'll be comfortable enough. Besides, I'm smaller than you. I'll fit better."

"You're our guest, Heather. I insist."

"And I don't want to be a burden. _I_ insist."

"I honestly don't mind."

"I wouldn't feel right."

"Lord Almighty!" Soda threw up his hands, looking exasperated. "It's just a bed! Let the guest have what she wants, Darry."

Darry glared at him for a moment, then sighed defeatedly. "Alright, alright."

Heather grinned.

"But don't be afraid to ask for anything. I won't have my guest uncomfortable."

"Glory, glory." Soda muttered, heading off to bed, "That took _much_ longer than it needed to."

Heather blushed. "Sorry."

Darry shrugged. "You could have just agreed with me."

She pursed her lips. "Let's not get into that again."

He laughed, following Soda down the hall.

I looked back to her. "You sure you'll be okay on the couch? I can go get you extra pillows or--"

"I'm fine, Pony." she gave me a tight squeeze, and her touch sent a shiver all through me. "Sweet dreams."

I stroked her hair. "I love you."

"I love you too."

I made sure she was okay, then headed off to bed. Soda was sprawled out, hogging the bed. I shoved him out of the way with a grunt and plopped beneath the covers.

"You know, I think you two were made for each other." he said.

"Why's that?"

"You're both dreamy, love books, and are aggravatingly stubborn."

"I never knew you could use a word like aggravatingly."

"Shut your trap."

"Sweet dreams to you, too."

-0-0-0-

It was probably two thirty when I wandered into the kitchen. I'd woken up hot and kicked off the sheets, then got cold again and pulled them back on, over and over again. I was tired of it and decided I needed a drink.

It was silent in the house, something I'm not at all used to. I set each foot down carefully, trying to be as quiet as possible, but somehow my every movement seemed amplified by the darkness.

I found a cabinet by memory and pulled out a glass, wincing when the water turned on and echoed in the silence. I filled it and took a much needed drink. I switched off the knob and padded over to the living room.

Moonlight flooded through the window, bathing the room in an odd, silver-blue glow. Everything seemed foreign somehow.

I glanced over and saw Heather on the couch. The light made her look even paler, made her hair shine. She looked like a China doll. I took a step closer. I'd never realized how small she was…

I had some weird thoughts then. I mean, I'd always known her as a strong, determined girl. But looking at her then, I saw her for what she was: small, defenseless, fragile. I'd almost lost her once, and I made a silent promise to myself that I wouldn't let that happen again.

I pulled the blanket over her and kissed her forehead gently. "Good night, Angel."

**Yeah, nothing too exciting… hope you liked it anyway. But keep in mind… I have some evil plans for this… (devilish grin)**

**Please review!**


	11. Chapter 11

Heather came back with me to school the following Wednesday. A good thing, to; when Two-Bit didn't stop by she'd start cleaning, and now we couldn't find anything. But having her there also intensified the stares. I remembered that girl at the DX, Amy, and wondered if she'd said anything.

"I get what you mean now." Heather whispered to me as we made our way to Science.

"About what?"

"I'm so used to everyone ignoring me, it's disconcerting when suddenly everyone's staring at you."

At home I kept an eye on her (she didn't notice), stepping in whenever Two-Bit got too rough. Since her first night here I couldn't get the image of her as a China doll out of my head. I wondered if they was how Darry and Soda felt sometimes.

It felt good to have her at home all the time and not have to worry about her father anymore. She'd asked the doctors what was going to happen to Mr. Reed, and they'd said he would spend four months in jail and then to rehab. I couldn't understand how she could still care about him after all he'd done, but she just shrugged. "He's my father."

I thought of Johnny. His parents didn't give a hoot if he lived or died, but he always asked if things were okay without him, if they were worried. He still loved him, just like Heather still loved her father.

It was Saturday afternoon when we got the letter. The whole gang was there, eating ham sandwiches and having a good ol' time. Heather decided she'd better go get the mail. When she came back, she looked stunned.

"What is it?" I asked her, dropping my sandwich.

"It's… from the state." she said. Darry stood and took the letter from her. We all waited for his response as we watched his ice blue eyes, glittering with surprise and then sadness.

Finally, he sighed.

"What's it say?" Soda asked impatiently.

"I don't think you'll like it much."

"Read it out loud."

Darry cleared his throat. "_Dear Mr. Darrel Curtis_," he began, "_This letter has been sent to inform you that your custody of Miss Heather Lynn Reed has come to an end._"

"WHAT?!" the whole table erupted.

Darry continued. "_Two in a half weeks ago we sent out several letters inquiring of Miss Reed's remaining relatives to become her parental guardian until she turns eighteen. We have gotten a reply from Ms. Elizabeth Thornton, the late Mrs. Reed's sister_."

Heather sunk into a chair, looking dazed. "Aunt Elsie?"

"_Ms. Thornton will be arriving Sunday the Eleventh to collect her niece._"

"Collect?" Two-Bit asked incredulously. "Did they forget she's just a girl and not some baseball card?"

"The eleventh?!" I jumped to my feet. "But that's tomorrow!"

"What else does it say?" Soda leaned over, trying to get a look at the letter.

Darry folded it up. "Nothing important. Just that all the paper work has already been signed, so all we have to do is hand her over."

We were quiet. I guess no one really expected Heather to have any other family, and especially not this soon. I remembered what the nights were like when she was in the hospital: silent, uncomfortable, and dull. We'd go back tot hat for a long time once she left again. Internally, I was screaming. How come every good thing I ever came across was taken away too soon?

"Where does this aunt of yours live?" Darry asked.

"Out east," she told him, "In Virginia, I think."

"Virginia?!" I realized we were pretty good at talking in unison when we were upset.

"But that's so far away!" Two-Bit pouted.

"I'm sure Aunt Elsie will let me visit once in a while."

"Once in a while ain't enough!"

"We need you here," I continued, "I don't know how we'll get along without you."

Her eyes were sad. "You did before you knew me, right?"

That hit home. She was leaving tomorrow. How could we lose her already? I shook my head. She'll be better off. Don't be so selfish. But I couldn't help it.

"Is she nice?" I asked.

Heather shrugged. "Seemed nice enough on her last visit. Only…"

"What?"

"I was told she died six years ago."

That was unexpected.

Steve, who had been silent this whole time, laughed dryly. "Girl, you got one whacked up family."

-0-0-0-

Everyone stayed late that night, wanting to put in some last laughs before she left tomorrow. We watched cartoons, taught her how to play poker (and regretted it after she somehow won every round), even fished out an old photo album. It was a nice night.

Steve and Two-Bit left around midnight and the rest of us went to bed. I was exhausted, but I couldn't sleep. I guess I was nervous. Eventually I crept out of my room, just for something to do.

I found Heather sitting on the windowsill, arms wrapped around her knees. She stared up at the sky, looking vacant and dreamy.

"Can't sleep either?" I whispered.

She turned to me. "Not really."

I walked over and sat beside her for a while, watching the few stars you could make out. "I wonder if they watch us back," I said eventually, just for something to say.

She smiled slightly. "I wonder that, too."

I turned away from the window to look at her. Tonight the moonlight made her look sad and scared. Then again, she probably was anyway. I pulled her into me, wrapping my arms around her.

She sighed. "I don't want to leave."

"I know."

I held her until she fell asleep.

-0-0-0-

Elsie came at nine.

We had just finished cleaning up breakfast when we heard the knock on the door. We'd been silent all morning, but right then everyone's face fell.

Darry answered it, and in stepped a tall, round woman, dressed in a purple dress and a colorful scarf. I couldn't see much of a family resemblance in her wrinkled face. Her eyes were green, but didn't have the gold that Heather's had.

"Aunt Elsie!" Heather faked excitement and hugged her aunt.

"Oh, little Heather!" Elsie's voice sounded gravelly. I wondered if she smoked. "You've gotten so big."

Heather smiled. "You haven't seen me in seven years; I should hope I grew a little."

They pulled away, and Elsie smiled at us in the kitchen. "Well, aren't you going to introduce me to these fine young men?"

Heather blushed. "Oh, yeah. Aunt Elsie, this is Darry, Soda, and Ponyboy Curtis."

I was relieved when she didn't look like she was suppressing laughter. "Thank you for taking care of my niece." she said, "It means a lot."

Darry waved his hand. "We'd do anything for Heather. It was our pleasure."

Elsie nodded, then turned back to her niece. "Do you have your things packed?"

Heather looked at the floor, twisting her foot. "No. They took the house before I could get anything. Those boys are all I have."

Elsie looked from her to us and to her again. She pursed her lips in a sort of half frown, the way I'd seen Heather do when she was working through a particularly confusing math problem. Maybe they were family.

"Elsie…" Heather sighed, looking up again. "I'm really glad you came for me. I really am. It's just… Pony and the gang have been the closest thing I've had to family since… well, for a while. They were there when I needed them most. But they have a hard life as it is, and I just --"

"I understand, darling." Elsie hugged her again. "But I've already signed the papers. I have to take you in."

Heather's face fell.

"But I tell you what." Elsie continued, and I felt myself brighten a little. "I have a friend who lives not too far from here. I'll stay with her for a week, give you some more time with your friends. Maybe when I get back, we can work out some kind of schedule. Sound okay?"

Heather nodded, her eyes sparkling. "You're the best."

**Sorry, it's another unexciting chapter. I didn't even like writing it. But it needed to be done, so please review anyway! Next one will be good, I promise!**


	12. Chapter 12

Steve came back around one. He grunted his acknowledgement to Soda and collapsed on the couch, grabbing the remote. Staring vacantly at the screen, he sighed. I curled up on the recliner as the audience for _The Price is Right _cheered for Bob Barker's arrival onstage.

"What're we doing tonight?" He asked to no one in particular. I noted he didn't sound too excited.

Heather walked in from the hallway and leaned over the back of the couch, smirking. "We could see how many times I beat you in poker."

Steve sat up immediately, vacant eyes now glittering with delighted surprise. "I thought you was leaving!"

Heather laughed. "She gave me a week."

He was smiling real big, like he hadn't done in a long time. I know he'd kill me if he knew I told you, but he had a soft spot for her, just like the rest of us.

Just then the door burst open, and there stood Two-Bit in the doorway. He had a beer in his right hand and he looked tired, but as soon as he saw her, he threw it behind him and raced into the room. His whole face was twisted into a goofy grin, and he scooped her up in a crushing hug, spinning her around. "Whee! You're staying!"

She let out what sounded like a cross between a laugh and a cough. "Y-yeah, I'm staying…" her voice was strangled. "Two-Bit, put me down…"

He dropped her and she stumbled to stay on her feet. "Sorry." he said, but he was still smiling.

"Glory, Two-Bit." I muttered, walking over and putting a steadying arm around her waist. "You'll crush her before the cartoons start."

"Well, I couldn't very well let you get all the Heatherhugs to yourself, now, could I?"

-0-0-0-

The next three days passed pretty normally. Even school was more enjoyable knowing she was still there. We stayed up late every night playing poker and watching whatever was on the TV, telling stories, just being buddies.

On Thursday evening both Soda and Steve insisted we needed popcorn. Darry said it'd be a waste of time and money to go to the store just for a bag of kernels at nine, and of course, the two of them started pouting. Eventually we all got sick of it, and Heather mentioned she'd found fifty cents in the street on the way home from school and offered to walk to the store.

"Oh, would you do that?" Soda looked hopefully at her.

"Yeah, sure."

"Thanks!" he glared at Darry. "She's _nice_."

"I'll come with you." I said. I wasn't about to let her walk East Side alone.

"Me, too!" Two-Bit piped in, scrambling up from his spot on the carpet and standing beside me.

So we headed out. It was a warm night, a little muggy. I had the feeling it would rain tomorrow; everything just had that wet feeling. I walked with her clutching me to her, Two-Bit ranting on an on about some story that was supposed to end in a joke. A bad one, too, by the sound of it. I didn't pay much attention, but it _was_ very relaxing.

"…and Nate the Snake jumped in front of the truck to protect his home, the Lever of Doom." Two-Bit was finishing.

"That's a little morbid." Heather muttered.

"Wait, wait, you didn't let me say the moral!"

"Which is…?" I asked.

He smiled broadly and said, "Better Nate than Lever!"

"Oh, how _funny_." a slick, fearsome voice said from behind us. "People should pay you for that crap."

I turned stiffly around to face the two dark haired Socs who threatened me the week before. They had that cocky, lopsided smile on, the very one Bob wore that night. I felt my insides twist, and Heather squeezed me tightly.

Two-Bit flipped out his new switchblade. "We ain't itchin to be held up by you." he growled, "You best stay out of our way."

"Aww, shame." the first mocked. "And we got all our boys out here for some fun."

As if on cue, seven other Socs slinked out of the darkness, sneering threateningly, blades and busted pipes gleaming in the orange streetlight. I pulled Heather closer to me, one thought racing through my head. _I have to get her out of here. I have to get her out of here._

Two-Bit swore under his breath. "Just let us be on our way."

"Sorry, no can do." the second said. He flipped out his own knife. "You killed Bob and you beat a few too many of our buddies. Needless to say," he shrugged, "The boys are pissed."

They had circled us completely now, offering no way out. I flicked out my switchblade from my back pocket. If I was going to get her out of here, I'd have to cut my way through.

Heather gave me one last squeeze and stepped away, staring them down.

They paused for just a second, then smiled wider, laughing. "What d'ya know." one said, "We caught him with his girl. How nice."

I raised my blade. "You touch her and you're dead."

"Well, little man," another tsked, "You're not in any position to be making such a claim."

Then it all happened way too fast.

Five jumped at Two-Bit, leaving the other four to me and Heather. She socked one in the face. I leapt at another, lunging into a flurry of stabs and doges. I tried to remember the anger from before, but I knew I couldn't go as crazy as before. I could hurt Heather.

Fists flew and blades flashed, and this time I felt it when they collided. I strained to drive them back, to give her a chance to run…

Then she screamed.

Out the corner of my eye I saw a thick-muscled blonde holding her down by her wrists. She thrashed and kicked, but he just held her tighter. He was smiling, his face too close to hers, and she moaned.

I threw myself at him, forcing him off her and slashed his face. He shouted, and lifted a pipe, but grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head into the concrete. That shut him up.

Another one was pulling me off him, slugging me hard in the face when I turned to face him. I kicked him in the groin and he doubled over, allowing me enough time to check up on Two-Bit. He was having a little trouble, but I knew he could handle it.

When I turned back, one had his blade pointed at me, the other with a gun pressed against her throat. "You don't really want to hit us again, do ya?"

I dropped my knife, and he smiled. Behind me, I heard Two-Bit groan in pain.

"What we gonna do with 'em?" he asked.

The one with the gun shrugged. "Let's play a game."

"Yeah." he grinned slyly, "We'll play a game. You know how to play hide and seek, greaser?"

He slammed the hilt of his blade in my gut, and the wind whooshed out. I dropped to my knees. I knew they all ran, taking Heather with them, but the one in front of me stayed a second longer.

He leaned down close to my ear and breathed, "Count to twenty."

**Ah, sweet suspense… I have a question for you all: Should Heather live or die? Tell me in a review, and please be quick about it. I'm excited to write the next chapter!**

**--thelastOpenDoor**


	13. Chapter 13

"Ponyboy!" Two-Bit's footsteps sent pulses through the concrete as he rushed over to where I lay. "Pony, you okay?"

I was still trying to get my breath back, and all I managed to say was, "They got her."

He pulled me to my feet. "Damn, they cut you good."

"They got her!" I gasped, "They took her away! We gotta go after them!"

His eyes turned hard, they way they had when we got yelled at by Johnny's mom in the hospital. He let me go and I stumbled a little, just managing to stay upright. "Which way did they go? I'll go after 'em. You go get the boys."

I nodded. I could run faster. "That way," I pointed.

He took off into the darkness, and I went the other way. I prayed to whatever god there was that she would still be alive when I got there.

Home was a good 15 minute walk away and I didn't have that kind of time. I ran faster than I'd ever run before, the sticky air roaring in my ears. I tried not to think about what I knew they'd to her, but I couldn't help it. Anger and guilt surged over the images I tried not to see. It was my fault. She never did anything to them, and they'd hurt her just to get back at me. Why couldn't they have just taken _me_?

The house was in sight. I could see Soda and Steve in the window, laughing and chucking pillows at each other, and felt bad I had to ruin their fun.

The door flew open and I skidded to a halt in the living room, nearly crashing into Darry. "Come on!"

"Jesus Christ, Pony, what happened?" Darry asked, taking my face and looking me over.

I pulled away. "No time! We gotta go!"

"What's going on?" Soda asked, abandoning his pillow and striding over to us.

"Socs!" I shifted from foot to foot, eager to run again. "Two-Bit went after 'em, we gotta help!"

"Pony, Pony, calm down--"

"NO! THEY GOT HEATHER!"

Everyone was quiet for a second, then Steve leapt to his feet and darted out the door. I followed, Soda and Darry just behind me. I don't think anyone shut the door. I caught up with Steve pretty quick, leading the way to where we got jumped. I took a sharp right, hoping it wouldn't be too hard to find them from here. My lungs screamed and my legs begged for me to stop, but I ignored the pain. I had to get there in time. I had to.

After what seemed like an eternity of running, I heard faintly the sounds of fighting. I turned toward it, knowing the others weren't far behind.

We found ourselves in an alleyway, and through the darkness, I could make out Two-Bit fighting four Socs, the other five standing in a circle, literally passing Heather around like a beach ball so everyone could have a bit of the fun. She lashed out, managing to get away from the one who held her, only to fall back into the filthy hands of another.

I felt the rage from before erupt sevenfold, and I landed all over the closest one. He gave a shout of surprise, but I bashed the hilt of my blade over the top of his head and he went limp. Another turned to me with a pipe, but again I was too angry to feel any pain and I hit five times as hard. He didn't last long. Darry came up out of nowhere and lifted one above his head, hurling him into the side of a wall. Then he turned to another, and that was all he had to do; that Soc turned and ran like Satan himself had come for him.

Now there was only one left, the one with the gun. And it was pressed against Heather's throat again.

"Move and she's dead." he hissed.

Darry and I stood our ground. Through my fear and rage, I was proud of Heather. Only her eyes were scared, and even though she had been surrounded by teenage boys, she'd managed to keep them off her and remain fully clothed. For that, I was relived.

"We're gonna get you out of here, Sweetheart." I found myself saying, "Don't worry."

"I know," she tried to say back, but the Soc pressed the gun harder into her skin and cut off her voice.

Steve came up beside me. "Let her go." he growled. "There's five of us and only one of you. I don't think you want to get hurt."

The Soc laughed, red hair falling into his eyes. "Ah, but, who has the gun?" There was a loud _click_, and Heather stiffened. He started to back away, and we followed.

"Look, buddy," Soda was there, spitting blood (yet still looking tuff about it), "We don't want any trouble. Just give us the girl, and we'll walk away."

"Sorry, man." he snickered. Now they were walking backward up an iron fire escape, inching higher and higher above us. "No can do."

"And why's that?" Two-Bit was with us now, too. He did a good job of masking how tired he was.

"I got a score to settle with this kid." he nodded toward me. Now he was half way up the building with us just five steps below. I realized then that we were in the really old part of East Side. All the stores were abandoned and falling apart. I remembered vaguely when we were younger and used to play hide and seek here…

"Is this really the way things have to be?" Darry asked slowly.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is." he tightened his grip on the gun. We all hesitated mid step, then continued. "That kid ruined everything. He killed Bob. Bob was a great man and a great friend, and he didn't deserve to die at the end of a greasy blade."

Steve's knuckles popped as he clenched is fist tighter.

"Then Randy ran off. After everything, Randy up and left just 'cause Bob died. And then this little shit decided to beat the hell out of my kid brother. He can barely bring himself to get outta bed."

"May I remind you," Two-Bit said, "That you and you're friends have done the same thing to us many times before?"

"_That's not the point!" _he spat. We were on the roof now, towering above the little boarded-up building beside us. I watched him reach into his back pocket and retrieve a lighter. He flicked a flame to light, holding it just a few inches in front of Heather's face. She flinched just slightly.

Then he dropped it, an orange star falling from the night and disappearing into the smaller building. He turned back to me. "You want things personal? I can make it personal." As he spoke he dragged Heather closer and closer to the edge of the roof, to the flames quickly engulfing the other building. "You hurt my brother, I hurt your girl. Sounds fair, don't you think?"

"Look, man, I didn't mean to hurt your brother," I found myself trying to reason with him. Steve took a step closer. "What I did was self defense."

"Self defense my ass!" he shouted back, and his gun hand shook slightly.

Steve took another step closer. My eyes darted from him to the Soc and with a horrible feeling, saw what no one else did. He lunged forward just as the redhead aimed his gun, just for a moment…

"Steve, _no_!" I cried, shoving him out of the way as the gun bucked and a shot screamed over the cackling flames. The impact of the bullet jerked me half around, imbedding itself right were my shoulder and my collarbone joined. I gritted my teeth against the searing pain and dropped to my knees, clutching the wound. The boys shouted and rushed to my side, but I think Heather was too stunned to make a sound. Even the Soc looked a little shocked, but he smiled.

No one noticed Steve.

I'd knocked him clear of the bullet, sure, but it's hard to stop Steve Randle. In the confusion he ran to the redhead, twisted his wrist to retrieve the gun, and gripped him by the neck. The Soc gagged, but his hold on Heather was still tight. The two of them leaned precariously over the edge.

Steve shook the Soc and growled into his face, "Let her go."

His eyes looked a little fearful, then he smiled. "Poor choice of words." he breathed.

Then he released his hold, and Heather tumbled down, and her scream was lost to the now roaring flames.

**I'm sorry, I just can't resist dragging this scene out. The question's still open. Please review even if you're indifferent to her demise!**


	14. Chapter 14

"NO!" I shrieked, "_NOO_!"

She couldn't be gone. After everything, I couldn't let her die. I struggled to my feet, but Darry had me in a tight hold and I couldn't pull away. I screamed pointlessly into the starless sky, my anger and sorrow fining voice. She couldn't be gone. She couldn't be gone. _She couldn't be gone!_

Steve, of course, wasted no time in beating the ever-loving snot out of that Soc. The gun skittered across the roof and landed a few feet away from me. Steve was swearing uncontrollably, creating a tapestry of foul words as the redhead lay beneath his relentless torrent of fists, sobbing. I felt no sympathy for him. He deserved every blow. But Soda and Two-Bit went over and dragged Steve off him before he could kill him.

I wondered if she could've possibly survived the fall. And if she did, whether or not she could find her way out of the maze of flames. The odds looked horrible. I had to get down there. I had to save her.

Darry had loosened his grip ever so slightly, and I took the advantage. I elbowed him hard in the ribs, and for a split second his arms flew out to his sides. I raced away from him, ignoring his and Soda's calls for me to stop, and dove off the roof.

The flames reached up to me with eager fingers, gripping my arms and face, dragging me down into the burning red hell I had already escaped once. I crashed through the ceiling and I managed to turn in the air, landing on my side instead of my head. It hurt, but it was livable.

I staggered to my feet. Orange light flickered everywhere, casting odd shadows in the corners like demons waiting to take me away. And yet, just like in the church, I wasn't scared. I know I should have been, at least for her, but I wasn't. All I felt was a burning determination. I would find her, and I would get us both out alive.

The smoke was thick, and it wasn't long before I was coughing my lungs out. I searched frantically for her, my eyes stinging with the effort. Support beams started to fall, but somehow I dodged the bigger ones.

Soon enough I found her. She had fallen on a tall pile of wooden crates, which, of course, were quickly become an enormous bonfire. I scrambled up to the top, willing myself not to care about the sharp pain that stabbed at my legs and arms, and crawled to her side.

She wasn't moving.

Oh, God, please no. Please, please don't let me be too late.

I checked her pulse. Her heart beat raggedly, but it was beating. She breathed slowly, almost unnoticeably. She was alive, but the fall had knocked her out.

Carefully, I scooped her up into my arms. I groaned as my arm flared, but I ignored the pain as best I could and slid down the flaming mountain of crates. I stumbled, but stayed on my feet. The fire had grown taller, the smoke thicker. I lurched through the building, trying desperately to find a way out. My throat was raw from coughing, and the pain in my arm was so intense I was afraid I'd caught fire.

We passed another stack of crates just as the fire popped. I crouched and bent over Heather as embers flew over us, stinging my face and arms. I winced, managing to get back to my feet. My head was spinning, and the bright patterns of the flames left bright splotches in my vision when I closed my eyes. They burned through the wood on the windows, making a nasty glare on the glass.

I thought I would pass out when suddenly a wall burst open, the flames belching out of the newly-formed hole. A figure stumbled through the flames, running toward me.

It was Steve.

"Come on!" he hollered, but his voice sounded like a whisper through the cackling fire. I staggered after him, holding Heather as close to me as I could so she wouldn't get burned on the way out.

The night air felt frighteningly cold after the heat of the fire, and my teeth immediately started chattering. I fell to my knees, struggling to breathe through my relentless coughing. We'd made it.

"Ponyboy!" Soda was at my side in a second, putting an arm around me. I still held her against me.

"We… we gotta…"

"Two-Bit ran back to get his car. It'll be okay, Pony."

Steve stood in front of us, panting. "Is she…?"

"She's alive," I managed through wheezes, "The fall… she…"

"Shh, Pony." Darry was on my other side.

After that, everything was too jumbled up to make any sense. I could barely hear anything over the fire behind us and my own breathing, but I faintly heard voices, too indistinct to place names to.

"Stupid kid. Could've gotten himself killed."

"If that Soc wasn't there, you would've done the same thing."

"If I ever see that Soc again, he's gonna wish he threw himself down there."

"It doesn't matter now. Worry about him later."

"Glory, look at the burns on him."

"You sure she's okay?"

"She's not okay. Not even close. But she's alive. I just don't know how much longer she'll last."

"Dammit! Where on God's green earth is Two-Bit!"

"D'you think he'll be okay?"

"Dunno. That bullet didn't help matters much."

"Stupid kid."

"That stupid kid just saved you life."

"I know, I know…. I just don't get it."

"Neither do we."

"There's Two-Bit. C'mon, we gotta get them to the hospital."

Through the haze in my mind I felt myself being lifted, then the roaring fire died away, replaced by screeching tires, and then I couldn't hold on to consciousness anymore.

**Hope you like it; this was really fun to write. I'll try to post more as soon as I can, but Breaking Dawn just came out, and I'll probably have to finish that before I can come back to this. Sorry! **

**Thanks to all my faithful reviewers! You make me feel loved. :D**


	15. Chapter 15

**I hope this will tide you over for now… it's not much, but there's a lot of long paragraphs that should keep you busy.**

I stared at Heather from where I sat, head resting beside her wrist. She was propped up by pillows, a mask covering her mouth and nose to breathe for her. The heart monitor still bleeped, but it seemed to be going slower every day.

Heather had been in a coma for the past week.

I stayed in the hospital for just three days. I'd been burned pretty badly, and the doctor said it was a miracle I was alive; if that bullet had hit anywhere other than it did, I would have died, and jumping three stories into a flaming building wasn't all too safe, either. Darry and Soda wanted me to stay longer, to make sure I was fully recovered before I went home, but the doctors managed to convince them it wouldn't do any good. Since they put me and her in different rooms, I would pull the tubes out of my arms to go stay with her. I kept hoping she would open her eyes, look at me and tell me everything was okay now, but she never did.

I sighed, looking at her pale face. The fire had mostly burned her back, but her face had some burns, too. Thin red lines traced jagged patterns along her cheek and above her eye, like cracks in glass. Guilt gripped me again. I'd let my China doll break. Maybe beyond repair.

"Hey, how is she?" Darry walked in, pulling up a chair.

"Same." I said into the mattress. "How was work?"

"Same."

"Soda?"

"Tired."

"He keeps tossing at night… Steve?"

He paused. "Still having trouble."

I nodded. Steve really took this hard. He felt like it was his fault, maybe because of what he said to the Soc, maybe because it was he and Soda who wanted popcorn and sent her on the trip in the first place. He'd wanted another rumble over this, but I convinced him out of it. "What does fighting solve?" I'd asked, "A fight was what got us into this in the first place. It's never gonna end. Besides, do you think that's what she'd want?"

He didn't stop by often. I guess seeing her like this hurt him too much. It hurt me too much, too, but I couldn't _not_ stay with her. She needed me. You know what I mean?

"Two-Bit?"

"Quiet."

Two-Bit was taking it hard, too, as I knew he would. He'd come to think of her as such a close friend she was practically family. Like a daughter, even. But he didn't do -- or didn't think about doing -- anything drastic, like Steve. Come to think of it, he didn't _do _anything. Just sat at my place and watched TV, totally silent. Not even an attempt at a joke. He didn't visit the hospital much, either.

"Elsie?"

"Said she was coming tomorrow."

Of course we had to contact Ms. Thornton. We had to hear the doctor's assessment first, and we had to wait for about two days for that. Then we had to call Elsie's friend, and apparently she wasn't in yet. So we waited even longer… yeah. You get the idea.

To be honest, I was a little nervous about explaining all this to her. I mean, her niece could -- dare I say it -- _die_, and the accident happen while she was with me. I hoped she wouldn't get too mad.

Darry sighed, shifting in his seat. "How about you, little buddy? You holding up okay?"

I closed my eyes. I was exhausted, sure, but I couldn't sleep. Lately I've been having the dream, but I wasn't screaming when I woke up, so it wasn't too bad. Still stopped me from getting any rest, though. My whole body ached, my mind was a painful mess of questions that couldn't be answered (When would she wake up? Could she hear me?), and, as cliché as it sounded, I felt like my heart had been torn down the middle. I knew I was gonna break down real soon. It was too much.

"Yeah." I lied, "Just fine."

Darry ruffled my hair. "It's getting late. Why don't we head home?"

I frowned. "What time's it?"

"Quarter to eight."

Wow, today went pretty fast.

"Look, Pony… you've spent enough time with her today. You need some rest."

"Not tired." I mumbled sleepily.

He laughed quietly. "You ain't fooling anyone. C'mon, she wouldn't want you to do this to yourself."

"Hmmmm…" I grumbled unhappily. He was right. "I'm fine."

Darry sighed again, then he was pulling me into his arms, carrying me out. I was asleep before we made it out of the room.

-0-0-0-

I had the dream again.

Only this was different. I _knew _it was the dream, but this time, I could remember it.

We were walking up a hill. No, a mountain. It was huge, but all of us -- Mom, Dad, Dally, Steve, Johnny, Soda, Darry, Two-Bit, even Heather -- knew we had to get to whatever was at the top, and we wouldn't stop walking. We couldn't.

But then we started to fall.

Mom and Dad went first. Just fell to their knees and didn't get back up. I wanted to turn, to stop and help them back up, but I couldn't. None of us could. We just kept walking. Others started to come out of nowhere. Socs. They grinned at us, pulling out their blades. I screamed for us to stop, to walk around them, anything, but I couldn't even listen to myself. We faced them head on, pulling out blades of our own, walking over their dead and leaving our dead behind. I couldn't even turn back to look at Johnny's face one more time. Just kept walking and walking until they all dropped, one by one.

Then it was just me. Without them, it was so much harder to put one foot forward. Soon I was crawling, desperate to get to the top of the mountain, the goal that always seemed just out of reach… a Soc appeared in front of me, smirking. He shoved me back, and I was rolling down the side of the mountain. All that walking, everything I'd worked to gain, gone. All gone…

I woke up drenched in cold sweat, clutching Soda and sobbing. "I can't… I can't…" I realized I was saying.

"Shh, Ponyboy, it's okay. You're okay." But his words meant nothing.

**Hope you like it… Not sure when I'll post next. I still have about three hundred pages to go in Breaking Dawn, and unfortunately, the dreaded band camp starts tomorrow. UGH. **

**Please review!**


	16. Chapter 16

Darry set his fork and knife down with a sigh. "We need to talk."

It was Saturday evening, and we were trying to eat dinner. Most of us just pushed our food around the plate. No one was hungry anymore; the food tasted ashen.

Heather still hadn't woken up. Every day her burns seemed darker, her breath shallower, her heartbeat slower. I watched her slowly die, and no matter how much I wanted to, couldn't turn away. The exact opposite of my dream…

I pulled myself out of my thoughts to look at Darry. His eyes were cloudy, his face a stone mask, but I'd known it would be bad news before he'd said anything. I told myself never to get my hopes up, because then they're harder to bring down.

"We all know Heather's not doing well." he said. The boys stared at their plates somberly. "I talked to the doctor the other day… he said he had expected her to wake up long before now. He's afraid… maybe we were too late. You know, to save her."

I clenched my fists, willing myself to keep the tears back. _You knew this was coming_, I told myself, but it didn't help any.

"I got the bill." he threw it like it was poison onto the center of the table, face up so we all could see.

I wished I could think like doctors. How else would I see how poor bums like us could possibly pay that kind of money?

I wasn't the only one stunned. Steve sighed angrily, Two-Bit's eyes popped out of his head, and Soda actually flinched.

"I know this isn't what any of you want to hear," Darry continued solemnly, "But… well, you all know what kind of state we're in already. We're making just enough to make ends meet. But this… this is way too much."

I felt my stomach plummet through the floor, like I'd gone through a loop in some sick coaster ride that never ended.

I glanced at Soda. His face was white. "You mean…"

"I'm sorry. But we can't afford it. We have to take her off the machines."

I was too stunned to feel my own reaction yet, but I knew it was coming soon. So I numbly watched the other's reactions.

Soda inhaled sharply, his once bright, dancing eyes were now completely flat, devoid of any life. Steve slammed his fists into the table, jaw taught. Two-Bit's eyes closed slowly and his face fell into his hands. Darry looked like he was made of stone.

Tiny cold pricks swept down my arms and legs, like they'd somehow fallen asleep and now the blood came rushing back through them. I stood up suddenly, the clatter of my chair painfully loud in the stunned silence.

"What?!" I managed to say.

"I know it's hard, Pony, but there's no way--"

"I'll work." My eyes searched their faces wildly, but saw the same look hopeless on each of them. "I'll get a job at the DX until she wakes up. We can make it work, we can --"

"Pony," It was Soda who stopped me this time, looking grave. "It's over."

I was shaking. My lips trembled and my heart thudded nervously in my chest. "No!" I said, "No, there has to be a way. We can't give up!"

"I'm sorry." Darry, again. "I've thought of as many options as I could and nothing's going to work."

"Then think harder!" I was pacing now, everything inside me boiling. I was gonna blow. "There's gotta be something--"

"Look, kid, don't you get it?" Steve was on his feet now, glaring at me with those dark eyes, eyes filled with hate and rage and sadness. "She's gone. She's gone and there's nothing we can do about it now. Stop wasting your breath."

I wheeled on him, every cell in my body trembling with fury. "She's not gone. She's still breathing, still thinking. You expect me to stand back and let you _kill_ her?"

"You don't have a choice." he hissed. "_We_ don't have a choice."

"NO!" I couldn't take much more of this. "There's gotta be some other way!"

"There's nothing we can do, Pony, so just forget it." Steve started to sit back down. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not." I breathed, but I'm not sure if he heard me.

"Please calm down, Pone. You know you're not the only one who cared about her." Darry said softly, "Besides, I think we all know she wouldn't want us to use all our money on her. She'd want us to use it for other things, things like getting you through school and finding a good job or a better house or--"

I threw my fists into the wall. "Dammit, Darry!" I suddenly reminded myself of Dally, just after Johnny died. I turned on him, unable to keep my voice from breaking. "She was _everything_ to me."

The whole table stared at me, trying to control myself. My body shook and my breath was shaky. I was gonna bawl. "You don't understand. You'll _never_ understand."

I turned and ran down the hall, unable to stand there anymore. I threw myself onto the bed and laid there for what seemed like forever, biting back the tears.

-0-0-0-

I woke up the next morning from a fitful sleep. I rolled off the bed, noting Soda's absence with slight confusion, and made my way down the hall.

No one was here. I thought it was a little too quiet. Today was Sunday, right? Everyone should be here…

I shuffled into the kitchen for some chocolate milk. Boy, I was thirsty. I noticed a note on the refrigerator door: _Went to church. Be back around noon. Love you, Soda._

Went to church?! Since when does the _whole_ gang go to church? And without me? Then I realized they probably wanted to pray for Heather. Ask for a safe trip to heaven or something. And they probably didn't want to wake me up because they'd assumed (correctly) I'd want some time to myself.

I sighed. What was I going to do? I'd practically gone nuts the two days I didn't know where she was. I'd really lose it, knowing she was… dead. Golly, just thinking about it made me go cold.

I set my now-empty glass on the counter. There had to be anther way. There had to. But… what could I do? Darry -- no, the whole gang -- had already decided she was gone. I'd never find a way to save her and convince them of it before they pulled the plug.

_It's hopeless._

I could feel myself starting to shake. I hurried into the bathroom and splashed some water on my face, trying to calm myself down. It didn't work well.

When I shut off the water and looked up, I paused. I hadn't really gotten a good look at myself for a long time. And now, the boy staring back at me was a stranger. His skin was etched with scars and burn marks glistening beneath the water dripping off his face. His hair was plastered to his forehead in semi-greasy curls. But it was his eyes that were the most unfamiliar. His eyes were a sort of jade-gray color, looking sad and scared and angry all at the same time.

He couldn't me be, I thought. He _couldn't_ be. The last time I'd looked in a mirror, _really _looked, I saw someone who was strong and brave without being hard. Someone who's eyes had seen a lot of things, both good and bad. I knew _that_ boy could've made it through all of this. _He_ would have found a way to save Heather.

This boy wasn't any of those things. This boy had been beaten down by the world, had everything good taken away until he was just a shell. A scared, broken shell of who he used to be. _This_ was the boy who'd let Heather get hurt in the first place.

And I hated him for it.

I pulled my fist back and slammed it into the glass. It cracked, distorting the boy's image. "_Why couldn't you save her?!_" I screamed at him, throwing another punch. The glass buckled and fell from the wall, like a deadly rain that bloodied my hands. The pain was sharp, intense, but I ignored it. I couldn't bare to look at him anymore. Again and again I punched the mirror until there was a giant hole in the center.

Breathing hard, I looked around. Bloody glass littered the floor. I gritted my teeth against the searing pain in my knuckles.

I stumbled back and leaned against the wall. Tears I hadn't noticed before streamed down my face. I let them fall. I didn't care. I didn't care about anything anymore.

I'd lost my parents long before they were meant to go. I'd lost Dally, a friend who risked everything just to keep me and Johnny safe. I'd lost Johnny, too -- my best friend, the one person I could tell anything to, who understood my clouds and sunsets. And now I was losing Heather, the only girl I ever loved, the girl who stuck with me through the bad times.

I realized then why that dream scared me so much. It was because it was really happening, and even in reality, there wasn't anything I could do to save them.

I fell to my knees, sobs racking through my whole body. The shards of glass reflected a thousand miserable, bloodshot eyes.

-0-0-0-

"Ponyboy?"

I turned my head slowly, looking up at Two-Bit. He stood still, but his muscles were tense and his eyes darted from my face to my hands to the glass on the floor. "Pony?"

Oh. He wanted me to say something. "Hi." my voice was thick with tears.

He knelt down next to me and gently brushed the damp hair from my face. "You wanna talk about it?"

I sighed.

He waited for me while I gathered my thoughts. I was so sad and confused it was hard to actually think. "I can't…" I sighed again, pressing the heel of my hand into my forehead, "I can't do this again. After Johnny… I just can't." I gulped and forced the tears back. I didn't want to cry anymore.

Two-Bit sighed, carefully fingering one of the larger shards. "It'll be hard, I know. For all of us, but you especially. She was… special."

"Yeah." I stared at the blood slowly dripping off my hands.

"She was talking to me once, while you were at school. Said she'd never met anyone like you. Said she'd never felt so loved, never loved anyone so much. And I know she meant it."

I kept staring.

"Pony, she loves you more than anything. She doesn't blame you for what happened, she never could. So don't you blame yourself."

I bit my lip. _Don't cry._ "How'd you know?"

The glass glinted red when he turned it over again. "I did the same thing the night of the rumble."

I looked up at him then. He looked… washed out. Like he'd cried away the color in his face. "What do you mean?"

He sighed again. "When I went home that night, I started thinking. I figured I could have stopped that whole mess if I hadn't been so careless. If I'd told Darry you was sick, maybe you wouldn't have gone to the hospital. If I didn't give Dally my blade, maybe he would've stayed out of that fight. If I hadn't left you and Johnny all by yourself that night and gone to get drunk, maybe you wouldn't have run away in the first place. I couldn't look in the mirror without getting mad at myself… so I broke it.

"But I see now there's nothing I could've done. How would I have known what all could happen, anyway? And it doesn't help to think about it. You shouldn't, either. It's done now. Move on."

I'd never had a serious conversation with Two-Bit before. It was weird. But at the same time, I felt like I really needed it. "Thanks." I muttered.

He nodded.

"D'you think…?"

"She might wake up. I always thought she would. But you guys really can't afford to keep her on those machines much longer, and if she doesn't wake up soon…"

"Yeah." I sniffed.

"C'mon." he stood up, "Let's get this mess cleaned up before the boys come home."

"I thought you went with them?"

"Nah. They're still in the service. I never was one for church. No action. I don't even understand half of what that old guy's saying."

I smiled. Same old Two-Bit.

**Sorry about the long wait, but I gave you a long chapter, so I hope that makes up for it. Oh, and to avoid some confusion, I had Heather go to the hospital twice because I thought it'd be very traumatic for Pony and the boys if she got hurt really bad just as she started to get better from the first accident. (yes, I'm very cruel that way.)**

**I'll try to update again soon… don't know how soon though… :(**


	17. Chapter 17

**Sorry about the wait! I'm trying to rap this story up, there's not much more to tell. Just need to figure out how to write this chapter, and maybe one more… Please review! Hope you enjoy!**

**Oh, and I don't own the Outsiders or the italicized paragraph from Poe's **_**The Tell-Tale Heart.**_

I don't think this house has ever been so quiet.

The boys came back from church about a half hour after Two-Bit and I finished cleaning up the glass from my tantrum. I was wearing one of Darry's old sweatshirts so they couldn't see the bandages on my hands. I had a feeling Two-Bit wouldn't tell them about the incident. For that, I was grateful.

Anyway, they all came walking in single file, the most somber looking bunch I ever saw. No one said a word. Darry didn't even bother to make lunch; no one would be able to eat it. Everyone sort of scattered around the house. Steve and Soda took their usual positions at the table for some poker, Two-Bit was flipping channels and drinking beer, Darry was showering, and I was reading Poe on the porch, trying to distract myself from… well, everything.

"…_At length, it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would --"_

So much for distracting myself.

I dropped the book, freeing my hands to catch my face. _Stone dead_. I knew exactly what he was talking about. I saw it in Heather every day.

I sat like that for God-knows-how-long. I couldn't take the constant uncertainty, the constant fighting, the constant hate anymore. I was getting a pretty bad crick in my neck from constantly looking over my shoulder. And I was so tired. Tired of worrying, of waiting, of hurting. Tired of seeing nothing but hate and flaws in world.

What ever happened to the stars?

I didn't lift my head when the door creaked open. Whoever it was just stood there for a while. I wished they would leave. I didn't think I could even try to talk to anyone right then.

"Pony?" It was Soda.

I didn't reply.

He put a hand on my shoulder. His touch felt cold, foreign; I flinched away. He stayed quiet for a while, then sighed. "You dropped your book."

"Don't care."

"Look, Pony…"

"Don't." I cut him off and got to my feet. He looked drained, eyes dull. "Just don't."

"Isn't there anything --"

"No."

"Where're you going?"

"The hospital. I need to say goodbye."

-0-0-0-

That too-clean bleachy smell seemed stronger than usual, and I sneezed. The secretary opened her mouth to say something to me, but I walked past her without a second glance. I knew the way to the room by heart now. Without breaking stride, I slipped into the elevator and pressed the two button.

I stared at my shoes. There were holes on the sides, and I had a blister or two. I really needed new ones, but I hated to ask Soda and Darry for things. Besides, shoe shopping was always uncomfortable, since the stores were always filled with Socs.

My stomach dropped just slightly as the floor came to a halt with a soft _ding! _The doors pulled open, revealing another blindingly white hall. I took the last left, then a right, then paused at the second door. Every day, I got this same feeling. Out of breath, inexplicably shaky, racing pulse… I guess it was because I was afraid of how much worse she'd be.

Trying to swallow, I turned the knob.

Silence greeted me. No beeping, dripping, whooshing machines. Just silence. I felt myself go white.

The bed was empty.

Emotions washed through me, bleeding together like watercolors. Disbelief, rage, loss… there was so much I couldn't move, couldn't think straight. I wanted to scream, to break something.

But all that came out was a strangled, "_No_."

Numbly, I staggered over to a chair and collapsed into it. There wasn't a single wrinkle in the blankets, nothing to show she had been there not a day ago. Like she'd been erased from this world.

Like she never even existed.

"You came early."

I turned. A nurse had just come in, scribbling something on her clipboard. "You usually don't come here for another few hours." She frowned. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

I cleared my throat. "C-came to say goodbye. Guess I was too late."

Her chocolate eyes widened. "Didn't the doctor call you? They moved her to the fourth floor."

I came out of my numbness with a jolt, flying to my feet. "What?!"

"Yeah, she woke up this morning. Room 476. She's been asking for you."

My heart leapt. "Thanks!" I called over my shoulder as I darted down the hall. The elevator wasn't there yet, so I took the stairs two at a time. My lungs couldn't take in enough air, but I didn't care. _She was alive_!

Not soon enough I burst through the stairwell and flew past several nurses. They called after me, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. _474... 475..._

_476._

I flung open the door, and a pair of gold-green eyes locked on mine.

Heather smiled.

I raced to her side, breathing hard. She was really here, really looking back at me… I hugged her with as much gentleness as I could manage, being so happy. I buried my face in her hair. "Oh, Heather…"

She squeezed me weakly. "I've missed you so much."

"You took the words right out of my mouth." I sighed. "Never, _ever_ do that to me again."

She laughed. "I wouldn't dream of it."

**Sorry it's so short… does it sound too cheesy? Please review, constructive criticism is deeply encouraged.**


	18. Epilogue

**Alright, here's the end. I warn you now: I've never been good with endings, so this will more than likely sound disgustingly sappy. Sigh. I just wanted them to have a really happy ending, since they never get any luck. **

**Anyway, read on.**

"Are we there yet?"

"Nope." Elsie called from the driver's seat.

"Where's there?"

Heather laughed. "You'll see!"

Soda groaned. "Ugh! I hate surprises!"

"Unless you're in on them!" Darry added. I smiled.

It was October now, a little over a year since the accident. Elsie showed up the day after Heather woke up. She dug okay; I don't think I've ever met an adult who understood us greasers more than she did. She and I ended up getting to know each other very well, since neither of us wanted to leave Heather. She felt really bad about having to take Heather away, but she did sign those papers, and once Heather was out of the hospital, they left for Virginia. They came to visit a lot, though, so her absence was a little more bearable.

This time, though, I had no idea where we were going. Heather had come bounding into the house with three blindfolds, tied them around my mine and my brother's heads, and shoved us into her aunt's car. All I knew was it was decently far away, and she'd made us pack a lot of clothes.

"How about now?"

"Be patient!"

I groaned.

"Don't worry," Heather whispered in my ear, and I could hear the smile in her voice, "You'll love it!"

"I just wish I knew what it was I'm supposed to love."

Two-Bit and Steve had been begging to go with us to…wherever. I felt bad for leaving them, but "This is a surprise for the Curtis brothers," as Elsie said, "So you'll have to wait until tomorrow."

I wondered why anyone would want to take this trip again so soon. Then again, it probably just felt long because I had no idea where we were going.

The car turned left, and the road got much bumpier. "We're not anywhere in town, are we?" Darry asked.

"Shh! You'll spoil it!"

"How much further?" Soda whined.

"Not far."

"That's what you said five minutes ago!"

"Well then, we're five minutes closer."

My had twitched, and immediately I felt Heather's around it. I didn't care where we were going, so long as she got to stay with me.

"Are we there yet?" Soda asked.

"No." Elsie sighed.

"How 'bout now?"

"Nope."

"Now?"

"NO!"

"Gosh, no need to shout." he muttered. "…Now?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"No."

"GOD!"

Darry laughed. "I'm sorry, Elsie. He's always been impatient."

"Don't gimme that crap, Darrel Curtis Junior." Soda grumbled, "You wanna see it too."

"Well, good." The engine gurgled to a halt. "We're here."

"Whee!" I heard a door pop open, slam shut. Then a muffled, "Get this thing off me! I can't see!"

I fumbled at my door, searching for the handle, then almost fell out of the car when it swung open. The ground under me was rough, the air crisp and sweet. "We're so not in the city," I said.

I felt Heather's hands behind me, untying the blindfold. "Far from it."

The black cloth fell away, and I gasped.

We were standing on a red dirt road, winding away from us until it connected with a nearly invisible highway. All around us was a wide, grassy prairie, framed perfectly by a thick, orange and yellow wood. An enormous log cabin towered over us, fitting in perfectly with the scene. It had two stories, a thick chimney, and tons of windows. It was beautiful.

"Heather and I decided that Virginia was a little too far away." Elsie explained, "So we saved up for this lovely house. There's plenty of room for you all, even for the other boys if they wanted to visit, and it's not all that far from town, so you can still get to your jobs and all that."

I looked at my brothers. Darry was gaping at the cabin, utterly speechless. Soda had the biggest, goofiest grin on his face, spinning around so he could take everything in at once.

"I told you you'd love it." Heather said, smiling.

I turned and swept her into my arms, swinging her around and around. "It's perfect!"

I set her down, looking down into her endless green-gold eyes. I must've been grinning like an idiot, because she laughed.

Then she gave a little excited gasp and, eyes twinkling, ran to her aunt. "Let's show them the rest!"

I was stunned. There was more?

Elsie beamed. "We'll start with Sodapop's present." She started toward the back of the house. "C'mon!"

Before Soda could turn the corner, though, Heather jumped on his back and clapped her hands over his eyes. "Hey! What is it with you and surprises?"

I ran over and took my brother's hands, leading him toward the back. "I'll try not to run you into a wall."

"Oh, don't you dare, boy."

Behind the house the near endless grass seemed to stretch wider. Nearby was a smaller cabin, its door wide open to reveal bales of hay and a saddle.

I dropped Soda's hands, stunned.

"What? What is it?" excitement shook his voice.

Heather dropped from his back. "Surprise!"

He stood stock still, then his whole face shattered with a huge grin by even his own standards when he saw what I saw.

There was a buckskin horse grazing just outside the stable.

"MICKEY MOUSE!" Soda screamed.

The horse looked up, and if I didn't know better, he smiled right back. He threw his head back in a loud whinny, then galloped toward us. Soda, laughing, took off to meet him.

I couldn't believe it. Mickey Mouse had been sold four, five years ago now? "How…"

"Wasn't easy." Heather was at my side again. "Elsie and I had to track him down."

"But how did you know?"

"I remembered what you said about that horse, and I just…" she shrugged. "I guess I felt like he probably missed Soda just as much as he missed him."

I nodded. "You're right."

You know how I told you how Soda's movie-star handsome? Well he was so happy right then he was shining. I mean it. It looked like one of the gods had come to earth just to ride his favorite horse. He swung himself up on Mickey Mouse's back, and they galloped along side the trees, a flash of gold flying through the prairie.

Darry and Elsie were talking about something. He still had that disbelieving expression as they turned to go inside. Heather and I followed them up the back steps into the house.

The inside was just as stunning. Most of the furniture was dark finish wood, and red curtains hung from the windows, pulled aside to let in the sun. Toward the front, a wide staircase swept up into a balcony like second floor.

We followed Elsie and Darry to the kitchen, where a manila envelope sat on the table. "Go ahead," Elsie said. "It's yours."

Darry's brows furrowed like they always did when he was confused, but he took the envelope and peeled it open as carefully as he could. Then his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Oh, Elsie, I… I couldn't--"

"Darrel, I've never met anyone who deserved it more."

"What is it?" I took a step forward.

"Tuition money." Darry said. "Pony, she's sending me to college!"

I grinned, barreling into him and squeezing the daylights out of him. "She's right, you know. You do deserve it."

-0-0-0-

Since it was Friday, we decided we'd spend the night, then go back for Two-Bit and Steve. Boy, would they love it here. Elsie claimed it was a little too cold to eat dinner outside, so we had our steak (steak! That didn't last long) by the fireplace. We'd had to practically drag Soda back inside, and even though we were all having a great time playing poker afterward, he kept glancing out the window, longing in his eyes. I convinced Darry to let him go back outside for a little while longer to say goodnight to Mickey Mouse.

But anyway, we passed the night playing card games and telling stories until, eventually, everyone got too tired and we all headed up to bed.

"I hope you don't mind," Heather told me as we walked down a hall upstairs, "I gave you and Soda the same room."

"No, that's fine." I told her. "I doubt I could get to sleep without him there."

She smiled, swinging open a door.

The room was easily twice the size of my old one. An enormous bed sat in the corner, complete with the perfect pillow fighting pillows. There was also a desk, two dressers, and a bookshelf.

But the best part was the window. It was open, making the white curtains dance in the cool breeze.

Heather took a step in front of me, pulling back the curtains. There was a ledge of the roof just outside, and she stepped out of the window and turned back to me. "C'mon," she said, "This is your surprise."

I smiled in spite of myself, but followed her out onto the roof. The night was really cold, but I didn't mind.

Heather took my hand and guided me further up the roof. The moonlight made her hair shine with streaks of silver. We sat down when we got as high as we could, and I put my arms around her.

"Look up," she whispered.

I did, and breathed out slowly, awed.

Above me were more stars than I thought humanly possible. So many I could only just find familiar constellations. It was like it should have been a full moon, but it had shattered in tiny, gleaming silver pieces, leaving behind a bright waxing crescent.

Looking up at them, with Heather at my side, I felt… whole. Like the emptiness from Johnny's and Dally's and my parent's losses were filled with silver stars. And for the first time in almost two years, I felt really happy.

"It's perfect," I told her.

I kissed her then, softly but passionately, and I felt myself lift off the roof, soaring high into the night sky, holding my Heather close to me as we stood among the stars.

**The end. Most sappy, I know. Crap. Anyway, I hope you liked it and aren't too disappointed with how I ended it. ****If you'd like, I can post an alternate ending in which Heather dies... **

**I'll be posting more Outsiders fanfics in the near future, but I am starting school this week and won't be able to update as often. BTW: I don't plan on doing many Ocs. I'll probably just use characters from Hinton's book that aren't very clearly introduced….**

**I should stop babbling now. Again, I hope you enjoyed it and PLEASE review! Criticism it deeply encouraged!**

**--thelastOpenDoor**


	19. Alternate Ending

**At a request, here's the alternate ending…. Enjoy.**

Silence greeted me. No beeping, dripping, whooshing machines. Just silence. I felt myself go white.

The bed was empty.

Emotions washed through me, bleeding together like watercolors. Disbelief, rage, loss… there was so much I couldn't move, couldn't think straight. I wanted to scream, to break something.

But all that came out was a strangled, "_No_."

Numbly, I staggered over to a chair and collapsed into it. There wasn't a single wrinkle in the blankets, nothing to show she had been there not a day ago. Like she'd been erased from this world.

Like she never even existed.

How did I let this happen again? How did a lose her, too? Through the haze in my mind, I thought, it's never going to end. Who would be next? Darry? Soda? Two-Bit? Steve?

Me?

No. It wouldn't be me. It could _never_ be me. Life would watch me lose everything I had, let me live in pain and loneliness, then let me die an old man.

I sat there for hours. I didn't cry. There were no tears left _to_ cry. All I could do was stare at the spot where my Heather once slept.

-0-0-0-

They buried her at sunset. We always had watched them together, had even shared our first kiss at sunset. It just seemed right.

A shaft of golden light fell on the tomb stone, making the grey stone shine, the letters carved into it looking deeper, more permanent:

_Heather Lynn Reed_

_October 9__th__, 1943 - June 21__st__, 1956._

_Stay Gold._

That last line would've been on Johnny's grave, too, but we couldn't afford it since his parents refused to pay for a burial. I'd made sure we buried her right beside him. I knew that they'd have been great friends if they ever met.

The gang stood around me, still and silent. Elsie stood on the other side of the grave, drying her eyes with a black scarf. She was paying for the funeral. I was grateful for that, but… I don't know. I guess I felt like she didn't know Heather well enough to be crying for her.

The priest stood between us all, reading passages from the bible, making his little speech about her. I sort of drifted in and out, mostly just remembering every moment she and I had spent together.

"Would anyone like to say a few words for Heather?" he asked in his raspy, old voice.

Darry stepped forward, clearing his throat. "I'm not very good with words," he started, "But I think I speak for the whole gang when I say you helped us more than anyone ever could. You showed up when we needed something bright and beautiful, when we needed to see that there was still… still some good in the world. We'll miss you."

He stepped back. Soda clapped a hand on his shoulder.

I stepped forward. "I…" my voice broke and I tried again. "I lost the best friend I ever had, and it really hurt. I couldn't think straight anymore. Then you came and helped me when I needed it most. You gave me my life back. No," In spite of myself, I laughed bitterly. "You changed it. You changed_ me_. Changed _us_. You took a bunch of ordinary JDs and turned them into something so much more than that. And I'll always love you for it."

Slowly I rejoined the group. I felt hands on my shoulders, but I couldn't pay much attention to them. I was too focused on Heather's tombstone.

The priest said some last words, then closed his book, turned, and walked back into the church. Slowly, the others followed. But I stayed, longer than the sun did, reading the words over and over again, still rapped in my own thoughts.

I remembered a line from one of Poe's stories: _In the deepest slumber -- no! In delirium -- no! In a swoon -- no! In death -- no! Even in the grave, all _is not _lost_. I wondered about that. Was she really gone? Or were there ways for her to come back?

I thought about that night when she and I were watching the stars from my living room window, wondering if they watched us back. I wondered that now. Could everyone who had lived and died, everyone we loved, be watching over us, even in death?

I looked up. A few stars were coming out, twinkling feebly. And, call me crazy, but I swear one of them was a sort of greenish-gold.

"If you can hear me, way up there," I whispered, "I love you. I always have and I always will. The boys and I… we really miss you down here. But I hope you're okay." I turned to go, then turned back. "And, say hi to Johnny and Dally and Mom and Dad for me, please. We really miss them, too."

Almost in response, the star flashed once.

I smiled softly. Then I turned and headed back inside.

**I think I like this one better than the other, but that's just me. What did you all think? Please review!**

**Oh, and I don't own the Outsiders or that line from **_**The Pit and the Pendulum**_**. **


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